


Love in the dark

by thewhistleisyourgod



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Parenting, F/M, Fred Weasley Dies, Good Slytherins, I had to get this out of my system, I have a lot of feelings, Original Character Death(s), Please bare with me, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, and they were narrative foils..., theres alot of death in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 59,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26269258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewhistleisyourgod/pseuds/thewhistleisyourgod
Summary: Katharine Silverwood was born with the sole purpose to fulfill her legacy that her parents had painstakingly planned out for years. It doesn't work.
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. 1998

**Author's Note:**

> This begins after the Battle of Hogwarts in 1998 and then we shall GO BACK IN TIME

Katharine almost missed the funeral.   
Her belongings were scattered about the bedroom, the suitcases with capitalized F’s on it thrown on the bed in a rush. Fred’s freshly pressed suits remained in the shut closet. A spilt cup of tea was next to the shattered portrait of their engagement on the floor. Bloody bandages from Katharine’s healing wounds were thrown askew on the tile of the attached bathroom. The remnants of her broken wand were on the desk, along with hundreds of rolled parchment of jokes, pranks, and firework blueprints.   
Katharine placed the last few articles of clothing in the suitcase and upon locking it, remembered what today was. Thunder cracked outside, and rain hit the closed windows aggressively.   
Muttering under her breath, Katharine fished out the pre-picked outfit that Hermione had left out the last time she had come to check in. The tight fabric slipped across her face, leaving her with a shocking pain to the scarring cut on her left cheek.   
Why today of all days? Did the Weasley's always have funerals on rainy days? In their defense, Katharine did decline to be in charge of it, and how was Molly supposed to know that it was going to rain today?   
Downstairs, Katharine heard the door open and shut. Quickly, she struggled to put on pantyhose and her shoes, before stepping downstairs, expecting Hermione.   
Standing in front of the fireplace, staring at the portrait above, was George, not wearing his funeral clothes. Before, the only way Katharine could distinguish which twin was which was that George stood straight up, and Fred had a terrible problem with hunching his back. She didn’t have to worry about that anymore.   
“Did you get a new wand yet?” The question wasn’t a surprise, Hermione, Ginny and Ron had all been pestering her to get out and get a new wand for a while. Katharine hadn’t seen George since the battle.   
“No.”   
“Let’s go then. And then for a drink.” 

They ended up at a back corner booth in the Leaky Cauldron after a long encounter with Ollivander.   
“You’re sure nobody’s looking for us right now?” Katharine asked, sipping on her water, twiddling with her new wand.   
“I guess you haven’t been reading the ten million letters mum’s been sending. It’s been postponed until the Burrow is fully repaired.”  
“Oh. Sorry.” With her eyes downcast, Katharine avoided looking at George. It was beginning to feel like having drinks with a ghost.   
“It’s alright. I didn’t get out of bed until a few days ago when Fleur and Angelina teamed up to verbally abuse me out of it.”   
“I’m sure I would’ve been next, no doubt.” They sat in silence for a long while. George ordered a tea.   
Across the way, near the bar, Katharine spotted a wall full of new wanted posters. By the order of the new Ministry of Magic, it said. Front and center, was a blurry picture of her father. She stood up and made her way over, plucking the paper from the wall and bringing it closer for inspection.   
“Hey, Silverwood! You better put that back! They aren’t memories to take home, the aurors actually want to lock up your traitor father!” The bartender leaned over and told her. George stood up, approaching with his tea.   
Katharine leveled him with a glare, slamming the paper onto the bar, “You, of all people, are going to tell me about traitors? Where were you at Hogwarts? Hiding like a coward, huh, Kettles?”   
The bartender stood up straight, still glaring, but went back to cleaning the glasses. Katharine straightened, taking a deep breath. She stuck the wanted poster back onto the wall.   
“Kettles may be stupid, but he’s not a traitor, Kat.” George spoke, still standing nonchalantly a few feet away. Katharine just grimaced and collected her things, leaving a few coins on the table to pay for the water.   
“This has been...a nice distraction. I’ll see you at the funeral, George.”   
“See you...Before you forget, why don’t you check the mail and respond to mum, please?” 

Hermione unlocked the door to Katharine’s apartment, and was greeted by silence. Nothing had changed from the last time she was here, except a cold cup of tea sitting on the counter. Upstairs, most of Katharines belongings were gone, including a few pictures. The mail that was beginning to pile up on her desk was gone as well. On the empty nightstand, was a quickly written note:   
I had to leave, please don’t try to find me  
-K


	2. 1991

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katharine's third year at Hogwarts is the first year she realizes Fred Weasley is kinda of not that annoying.

Katharine always knew her little sister was a little….out there. She’d go down by the lake on their property, pick the weeds and flowers and place them in a vase in the kitchen. She had three frogs, one cat, and an owl. Her stark blonde contrasted greatly from the rest of the family's black hair. She quarreled with their father relentlessly, even when she was too young to even know what they were fighting about.

Violet Silverwood received her letter from Hogwarts and was set to attend for the first time when Katharine was going into her third year. Katharine couldn’t help but be nervous about where she would be sorted. Slytherin was ingrained in their blood, but Violet never seemed to fit the mold.

The sorting hat barely made it onto Violet’s head before it yelled out Hufflepuff. Katharine, seated at the Slytherin table, let her mouth drop open in disbelief. This was not going to go over well with their parents. From what Katharine could see, Violet looked happy, albeit nervous.

“Oi, Silverwood! Isn’t that your sister?” The third year section of Slytherins erupted into laughter. Katharine glared, too shocked to do much else.

That night, Katharine sat up in her bed, writing a long-winded letter to their mother about the news.

“Kat? What’s the matter?” Emilia Dots, Katharines friend, leaned up in her own bed, rubbing sleep away from her eyes.

“I’m writing to my mother about Violet. Hopefully my father doesn’t personally take the train here and force her into Slytherin..” Katharine trailed off, finishing off the three page letter and placing it on the nightstand.

“D’you think they’ll be mad?” Emilia mumbled, weary eyes still watching Katharine settle down finally.

“Most definitely.”

Katharine lost track of Violet’s progress well-into October. There was still no response from her parents, but she took that as a good sign.

“Whose cat is this?” Katharine was sitting in the library, working on a potions essay when she heard the voice. She couldn’t see anything but the outline of three people a few rows away. One of the outlines points towards where Katharine is sitting. Shit. Socks must’ve followed her.

As they round the corner, Katharine realizes the two people inquiring about socks were Fred and George Weasley, the two most annoying people in the entire third year at Hogwarts. They were wearing matching sweaters, adorned with their respected letter. In Fred’s arms, was an unhappy Socks, a black cat she had received last year before school started.

“Is this your cat?” They asked in unison, exasperatedly. Katharine grimaced and nodded, getting up from where she was sitting.

“Yes, sorry. Socks must’ve followed me from the common room.” Katharine took the cat from Freds outstretched arms.

“Socks? What kind of a person names their cat Socks?” George questions. They stood there, unmoving, while Katharine sat back down, Socks now at her feet.

“What’s it to you?”

“Why not boots? Or any other name?”

“What do you have against the name Socks, Weasley?”

“No need to get so defensive, Silverwood, just a simple question,” Fred and George exchanged looks, “Probably fitting for a cat that likes to attack people in a library.” Sighing, Katharine put her quill down and turned fully towards them,

“I already said I was sorry. Why are you still here?”

“Did you do the potions homework?”

“Go away.”

Katharine began to have more and more unlikely encounters with the twins after the incident in the library. They moved seats in potions, directly behind Katharine and Emilia. When Katharine sat and watched Violet at swim practice, they were always there, planning some great prank that would get them three weeks detention. When Katharine brought this up to Emilia, she shrugged.

“Maybe one of them has a crush. Why does it bother you so much? They’re idiots.” Katharine sat back on the couch in the common room.

“Silverwood!” a third year boy came over and handed Katharine a letter. She sat up, immediately recognizing the formal scrawl of her mother. She opened the letter quickly.

Dearest Kat,

I hope your third year of Hogwarts is going exceptionally well so far. I apologize about not having responded to your letters, it has been quite a busy fall for your father and I, but we cannot wait to see you and your sister for Christmas in three weeks.

As for Violet: It is what it is. You cannot change how the Sorting Hat feels now! Enjoy the rest of the year before break, dear.

I love you, Mum

“What’s it say? I can’t make out her writing.” Emilia asks, leaning over Katharines shoulder.

“Everythings fine.” Katharine tells her, a little taken aback.

“Well, that’s good right? That everythings fine?” Emilia wrings her hands, sitting back on the couch, her open Defense against the Dark Arts book on her lap.

“Yes, it’s good. Just...Surprising.” The rest of the term flies by for Katharine.

Before she knows it, Emilia, Violet and her are walking up to the train to go back to their estate for Christmas. As they wait to get on, Katharine fusses with Violet’s scarf.

“Kat, stop it! It’s fine!” Violet whines, pushing Katharines hands away. Katharine sighs, anxiety still bubbling in her stomach. As they board the train, they pass Fred and George, yet again.

“Happy Christmas, Silverwood!” They greet in unison, sticking their heads out of their section.

“Strange.” Emilia mumbles, following Katharine to their own compartment.

“Anything from the trolley, dears?” Violet fished out a few coins from her pocket and made her way over to the trolley. Socks and Violet's cat, Missy, were snuggled beside Katharine, who was reading.

“So, Vi, how is your first year going?” Emilia asked when Violet returned to her seat, offering Katharine a chocolate frog.

“Pretty good. I'm having trouble making friends, but I met a girl in Ravenclaw named Luna. We get along well,” Emilia and Katharine exchanged a look, “Did you know Harry Potter is in his first year too?”

“I did know that.” Katharine didn’t look up from her book. The compartment door opened, and when Katharine looked up, Fred Weasley stood in the doorway, looking awkward in his handmade sweater.

“Happy Christmas, Kat.” He said, offering a chocolate bar. Katharine, her mouth open, accepted the chocolate bar.

“Thanks-” when she looked back up, Fred hadn’t stayed long enough to hear her thank you. Violet and Emilia looked at her in disbelief, and Katharine returned their confused look. She shrugged, putting her book away and unwrapping the chocolate bar, offering them each a piece.

“I don’t know, Vi, I think Weasley might have a crush on our Kat here!” Emilia exclaimed, and the two girls exploded in laughter. Katharine covered her face in embarrassment.

Christmas break went on for a painstakingly long time. Despite her mother’s reassuring letter, it didn’t seem like her father had completely gotten over Violet being placed in Hufflepuff yet. He only appeared for meals, and on Christmas day, only spoke once or twice. Their family signet burned a hole through Katharine's head during mealtimes.

The night before they had to be back on the train for Hogwarts, Katharine's father joined her in the chairs by the fireplace. He poured himself a cup of tea before sitting.

“Since your sister decided to let her own personal enjoyment get in the way of fulfilling her family legacy, it is on you to uphold our family name. I see in you the same spark I saw in your mother when we were your age. Don’t let childish dreams hold you hostage forever, Katharine.”

They sat in silence as her father drank his tea. She looked at him with a confused expression.

Above the fireplace, was the Slytherin Insignia.

“What do you mean?” Katharine asked in a small voice, like she was a little girl again.

“I mean you have to make sure you don’t fall for the Weasley boy.”

“Violet doesn’t know what she’s talking about, there's nothing-”

“I don’t care whether or not there’s nothing now, just make sure it goes no further than a boyhood crush. You two will lead different lives, nothing good would come of becoming friends, or worse, with him.”

There was no more speaking after that.

“Did you know that it’s not a requirement to be prissy like all the other Slytherins?” Fred yelled down the hallway. Katharine grimaced and kept walking. She’s been following her father’s demands, but just to her disappointment, the chocolate bar exchange on the train has seemed to spur Fred on with his crush. Fred and George have been appearing more and more in her peripheral, always there, always trying to make conversation. Despite Fred trying to always bother her, Katharine has managed to avoid him for most of the school year.

One day in early spring, Emilia and Katharine sit on a bench near a shady small beach, watching Violet swim back and forth, practicing strokes. Emilia puts her book down and sighs.

“Whatever happened to Weasley? Did his crush just end after christmas break?” Katharines cheeks heated up and she bit her lip.

“I’m not allowed to fraternize with the..uh..’enemy’” she explained, with air quotations around the word enemy. Emilia nodded in surprise, before standing up.

“Sucks. He was kind of cute,” Katharine’s cheeks heated up again, “C’mon let’s get lunch, my butt fell asleep. Vi!”

Potions on a Thursday when the sun was out, the flowers blooming and filling the air around them sweetly was painstakingly cruel to Katharine. There’s nothing she wanted to do more than to sit outside in the shade with a book and good company.

“Where’s Dots today, Miss Silverwood?” Snape questioned, looming over the half-empty desk. Emilia had terrible allergies, she was still in bed, sneezing up snot that could create a snot-army.

“Sick, sir.” She mumbled, pulling her potions book out of her bag.

“Well that won’t do today. I see you’re missing one of your two brain cells Mr. Weasley. Come join SIlverwood and turn to page 643.” Katharine's eyes widened and she feverishly flipped the pages of her book as Fred awkwardly came to sit beside her.

“Allergies?” Fred asked after a few minutes of beginning their shared experiment. He didn’t look up from pouring a chopped frog leg into the cauldron.

“Excuse me?” Katharine mumbled from flipping through pages, putting the items they needed in order.

“George hates spring because he has allergies. I assume like half the people in this school that’s why you’re friend isn’t here,” Fred stirred the cauldron absentmindedly, “I was beginning to think you were joint at the hip.” Katharine chuckled, leaning back on her stool. The room was quiet other than quiet whispers and the sound of items being dropped in cauldrons.

“That’s a brave assumption, Weasley. You do know you’re an identical twin?” Snape waltzed past their desk, eyeing them as they returned to their work silently.

“When is your birthday?” Fred asks ten minutes after their last conversation. The potion in the cauldron was bubbling now, symbolizing that they were almost done with their work. Katharine looked over at him, amused.

“What’s it to you?”

“I dunno, you just strike me as a winter baby. Heart of ice and hair as dark as your soul.” A lopsided grin met Katharine's face as Fred acted out his words, taking a pretend sword to the chest and dying like a noble man.

“For your information, my birthday is in June. What about you, identical twin number 2?”

“Number two? That hurts.”

“Just answer the question, Weasley.”

“April 1st, and for your information, Silverwood, I was born two minutes before the real identical twin number 2.” Katharine bit back her laughter as Snape approached them again, this time to test their potion. The class was dismissed before they knew it.

Fred followed her to the Great Hall, where she prepared a small platter to take to Emilia. He continued to follow her to the Slytherin common room, where they saw Violet in the hallway. Katharine stopped to adjust her sister's tie, before she kept walking, Fred trailing behind.

“Are you lost, or something?” She asked when she came back out of the Slytherin common room, Fred was still waiting.

“Well, technically, yes. George is sick. I have no more classes. What are you doing?”

“Divination.”

“Wicked, I’ve always wanted to see that cooky lady up close.”

“She’s not cooky, she’s just high-spirited.”

“You’ve got to be the most polite Slytherin I’ve ever met.” Katharine stopped, and turned back to Fred, who raised his eyebrows.

“Slytherins don’t all have to bathe in the blood of their enemies, you know? We aren’t all terrible people.”

“So you admit it, most Slytherins bathe in the blood of their enemies.”

"I never said that!”

“You just did!”

Their childish banter continued until they reached Divination. Professor Trelawney barely even noticed Fred’s appearance.

After that Thursday, Fred would appear at the staircase outside of Divination every Thursday until the end of the school year. They never talked about the chocolate bar, or Katharine spending most of the year avoiding him. They just took Divination in silence.

“I wouldn’t consider us friends. He just takes Divination now!” Katharine exclaimed at breakfast one Saturday before Hogsmeade. This was the last Saturday before they left school for summer break.

Emilia scoffed playfully, brushing off Katharine’s words. “I just know I’ll be saying ‘I told you so’ at your wedding.” Katharine blushed, hiding behind her hands, Emilia burst into laughter.

“I’m not marrying a Weasley. Ever. Kill me if it comes to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	3. 1992

Diagon Alley a week before school starts is the best time to visit. Fellow classmates and overwhelmed parents line the streets, the shops are alive with magic and excitement. Katharine walks a few steps ahead of their parents, arms interlocked with Violet, who was balancing her new books and robes.  
“Ten sickles that I can pants Gilderoy without anybody seeing.” In front of Flourish and Bots, which is exceedingly popular today, is Fred and George, hiding behind a few first years, shaking hands as if they just made a business deal. Katharine smiles, and gets in line. Beside the twins are two other redheads and Harry Potter, looking rather dirty.  
“Are you aware that you’re covered in soot?” Violet asks him after a few pleasantries are exchanged. Katharine looks at her in shock, a silent reprimand.  
“Yeah, he’s had a long day of cleaning chimneys, poor chap, as to pay off mooching off our parents all week. And to pay for the car- George, start a running sheet of prices-” The redheaded boy glared and shoved Fred in the shoulder.  
“Alright shove off, Fred. And the car was your idea.”  
“Car?” Katharine asked, a look of confusion and amusement meeting her face.  
“Oh yeah, dad made a flying car, so we decided to fly it all the way to Privet Drive to save good old Harry here. You know what, Fred, I’m beginning to think those bars on the windows were to contain Harry, not keep us out.” Harry’s cheeks heated up in embarrassment, and he laughed.  
“Whatever they were for, George, they weren’t doing a very good job. Anyway, enough of Harry, topics about as boring as Ron’s sob story for Mum. Ladies first.” Fred and George parted in the middle, letting Katharine and Violet step ahead of them in line.  
“I’m a lady!” The last redhead said, her face red with humiliation.  
“Are you sure, Ginny? Last time I checked you were a full time Chimera. Oh dear, I guess we should break the news to Mum, then.” Ginny shoved Fred’s gangly arm off of her.  
Inside the bookshop, Violet separated almost immediately to get a good look at Lockhart. Not because she was excited, but because any big group of people made Violet curious as to what was going on. Katharine shoved herself off to the section where she could locate her own books.  
“Was Violet adopted?” Fred appeared, pulling out his own potions book, speaking loudly over the hustle and bustle of the store.  
“No. Believe it or not, genetics are a thing.” Katharine pushed her books into her cauldron, leaning against the bookstand, hand extended for the sloppily written list in Fred’s hand.  
“Katharine.” Katharines father stood with Violet by his side, her wrapped books in her own cauldron. His lips were pursed in a thin line, he ushered for her to follow. With an apologetic smile, Katharine handed Fred back his list, and followed her father.  
“I told you about the Weasleys. They’re all nothing but trouble.” Katharine sat at the kitchen table, chopping apples with her mother. Her father paced back and forth, halfway through his speech. Outside, Katharine could see Violet through the bay window, picking flowers.  
At closer inspection, Katharine could see a flash of white hair. As she got closer to the window, Violet and the Malfoy boy, who lived over the hill in the Manor, were sitting together. Her father stepped closer, letting out a small chuckle.  
“Maybe Violet isn’t as far gone as I expected.” He left the room, leaving Katharine with her mouth gaped, still clutching a half-cut apple.  
Later that evening, Katharine sat at Violet's small desk, which was littered with half-written letters, pressed flowers, and a copy of whatever the ‘Quibbler’ is, signed ‘Your friend, Luna.’ Violet was crossed legged on her bed, training Missy to roll over unsuccessfully.  
“Was that the...Draco earlier?” Violet looked up, treat in hand, smiling lightly. Missy sat up, eating the treat from her hand.  
“Yeah. We talked about school, mostly, he picked some of those flowers there.” She pointed to the jar of small yellow flowers. Katharine nodded. She’d heard about the Malfoys from school, and Violet told about Draco and Harry Potter's apparent feud that was already forming even though they’re twelve.  
The end of the week finally arrived after seven days of silent dinners and Draco coming to talk with Violet in the garden.  
Right before they left for the train station, Katharines mother pulled her into the kitchen, looking nervous as ever.  
“Mum? What is it?” Socks meowed quietly from his carrier.  
“Promise me you’ll keep an eye on Violet. She’s too young to understand the strife that she’s causing in the family. You’re fourteen now, please make sure nothing happens to her.”  
“What do you mean? Is something going to happen?”  
“No, no, no need to worry dear. I’m just- I’m worried about the Malfoy boy, is all. I know his parents.” Her mother smiled reassuringly, adjusting Katharines jumper, and ushered her out of the kitchen.  
Her mother's word clung to Katharine the whole train ride to school. Violet had chosen to sit in her own compartment with her friend Luna and a Gryffindor boy who was beginning to make a habit of losing his toad every train ride.  
“Katharine? You in there?” Emilia waved her hand in front of her face. The two Slytherin fourth years had fallen asleep, leaving Emilia and Katharine to time by themselves.  
“Sorry. How was your summer?” She closed her book, which she really wasn’t reading to begin with. Before Emilia could answer, the compartment door opened, and Fred and George stuck their heads in.  
“You by any chance haven’t seen a redhead and a boy with a lightning scar on his forehead?” George asked. Emilia and Katharine looked at each, back at the twins, and shook their heads.  
“Hm. I thought for sure they probably got into a duel in the Slytherin section. Oh, well, I’m sure they’ll show up.” Fred said, and they disappeared.  
Katharine didn’t see the twins again until the first day of potions. Again, they sat behind Katharine and Emilia. She turned around, foot on the front of their desk to stabilize herself.  
“So, did you ever find the two missing second years?”  
“Oh yes we did, and you’ll never believe what they did.”  
“What did they do Freddie?”  
“Well, Georgie, those two idiots took the car to Hogwarts. They missed the train and decided, ‘let’s take the flying car!”  
“Sounds like a terrible decision.”  
“Oh, Kat, it was so so so much worse than terrible.” Their conversation was interrupted by Snape entering the room.  
“You totally like him.” Emilia whispered while looking down at her book.  
“Shut up before I hex you.”  
The truth was, Katharine didn’t like Fred as anything more than a friend. She didn’t have many friends, and most legacy Slytherins looked at her differently after Violet was placed in Hufflepuff. Katharine has always been a slave to tradition, and having two red headed twins giving her bereavement every once in a while was more than welcome for her.  
“You didn’t happen to do the potions homework, did you?” Katharine was sitting alone in the library, with her potions homework halfway done in front of her. Fred dropped his bag on the ground, pulling out fresh parchment, and taking a seat beside her.  
“I’m halfway done. Why?”  
“Can I copy? Can’t afford another detention, they’re already overlapping this week.” A few desks away, a bushy haired second year turned and grimaced at them.  
“Cheating is against the rules!”  
“Good thing you’re not a snitch, granger.” The girl huffed, and turned back around.  
“Friends with my brother. She’s crazy.” Fred whispered, taking out a quill. Katharine smiled. By the time they finished their homework, the sun was setting, and most people in the library were headed to dinner. From outside the window, orange leaves fell to the ground, mixing with the yellows and reds on the walkways.  
“You know, I’m not supposed to be friends with you.” Katharine exclaimed, putting her potions book and essay back into her bag, pushing in her chair to walk with Fred.  
“I figured that much. Good thing you’re father doesn’t attend Hogwarts.” Fred was fixing his tie, and looked over Katharine with a reassuring smile.  
“So. Friends?” Katharine stopped, extending her hand for Fred to shake.  
“Friends.”  
Time went on, the days got shorter, the nights got longer. Floating candles surrounded the Slytherin common room with a green hue. Emilia and Katharine sat at a round table in the corner, working on a potions essay that was due in two days. Katharine was knocked out of her train of thought when two large palms slammed down on the table near her book, nearly spilling her ink everywhere. When she looked up, Alder Hawks was grinning at her.  
It seemed that every boy in Slytherin had suddenly grown between third and fourth year, making them more arrogant and obnoxious than the previous years. Like Alder, who was still standing there, not saying anything.  
“Are you going to say something or are you just going to stand there like a complete nuisance?” Katharine asked, causing him to snap his mouth shut, standing up straight, adjusting his Slytherin sweater.  
“I was wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday.” Alder finally spoke, an awkward smile on his face. He may have grown five inches, but his face was still in a middle stage between baby fat and grown man.  
“Emilia, is it going to snow this weekend?” Katharine asked. Emilia slid her chair over to the closest window, looking out at the clear skies and icy grass.  
“It's november.” Alder countered, beginning to get uncomfortable with the situation.  
“Doesn’t matter. Snow can fall in November.”  
“I say with total trust in my opinion that it will be snowing this saturday, Kat.” Emilia concluded, screeching her chair back to her essay.  
“Sorry, Hawks, but due to bad weather, I cannot attend.” Katharine announced, and turned back to her essay. At the couch near the fire, a group of his friends burst into laughter.  
“Uh..Alright then…” He left, slumped over in defeat.  
“Little harsh, Kat.” Emilia mumbled, flipping over a fresh piece of parchment, signalling her last page of the essay.  
“Piss off.”  
Apparently, Alder wasn’t going to give up after the mishap in the common room. He sought Katharine out at mealtimes, in the library, outside in the snow. After a few days of him constantly showing up, Katharine was getting fed up.  
“Are you going to the dueling club this week?” Fred asked Katharine as they sat in the library, parchment and books littering the table. George had his head face down in the middle of a book, ultimately defeated. Emilia was over in another section finding the right books they needed.  
Snape had assigned the four of them to a grueling assignment after they got in trouble too many times. To Katharine’s surprise, Fred and George were actually better in potions than she originally assumed.  
“I guess so. Anything to get away from Alder Hawks.” Katharine groaned, soothing the cramp in her hand from holding a quill for too long.  
“Who’s Alder Hawks?” Fred asked, leaning back in his chair. Emilia made her way back, dropping a few books in front of George, who looked very overwhelmed.  
“He’s a fourth year that's been following Katharine around even though she already rejected him. Maybe you can take him in dueling club, he might get the message then.” Emilia offered, opening the top book as George started lightly banging his head against the table.  
“That's..not a bad idea. How about we call it a night?”  
“Thank merlin!” George exclaimed, quickly shoving the books back into the wrong slots, shoving his parchment into his bag.  
“You know how to duel?” Fred asked, head tilted in surprised amusement.  
“Are you kidding me? I’m a Silverwood. It’s practically a requirement if you don’t want to die before the age of seven.”  
“So your parents are strict?”  
“One time, I was eight, and my father threatened to kill my cat if I didn’t practice my spells.”  
“Harsh.”  
“You have no idea.”  
Dueling Club, in Katharine’s humble opinion, was a bust. It was over almost as soon as it had started, after Harry Potter knocked the Malfoy boy out and spoke parseltongue. Even though it was a bust, at least Katharine had one care-free night to enjoy with her friends and sister.  
“I have ten sickles on Miss Violet over there. Kat?” Fred whispered as Violet got up to duel Luna Lovegood, one of her good friends.  
“It’s funny they pitted two pacifists against each other. But Violet will win by a landslide. Put me down for fifteen.” She responded, watching Violet yell-apologize to Luna before throwing a spell that knocked Luna off her feet almost immediately. Katharine clapped, smiling.  
“Told you, it's the Silverwood touch. My sickles, please.”  
“Note to self, never go toe to toe with you. Do you have any other relatives I should be aware of?”  
“Let’s see; there's Violet and I, our cousins Reed and Adolph a year ahead of me, and Alvena whos a first year.”  
“Great, get those Georgie?”  
“Got ‘em, freddie.”  
The last day of classes before christmas break was dragging along at snail speed. The snow was falling onto the rolling mountains outside, making Katharine drag all day. By dinnertime, her head was in her hands at the table, eyes drooping.  
“Delivery for a Kat Silverwood!” Something hard dropped on top of her head, and fell directly into her uneaten pudding. It was a chocolate bar, with a red bow tied around it. When Katharine looked up, Fred and George were laughing in the distance.  
The Slytherin common room was buzzing with excitement when Emilia and Katharine finally broke away from Violet at nine.  
“I can’t wait to take this sweater off. I might have to cut myself out of it.” Katharine groaned, Emilia answering with a muddled hum.  
“Oi, Silverwood!” A voice bounded after them just as they reached the stairs, groaning, Katharine turned to face Alder, who looked red as a beet.  
“Weasley? Really?” Alder crossed his hands over his chest like an impatient child, making Katharine glower at him.  
“You’re going to have to be more specific, Hawks, there's like ten million of them.” Alder huffed in anger, pointing to the chocolate bar that was sticking out of Katharine’s pocket.  
“The twins. Why have you been leading me on this whole time?” Emilia watched from the staircase, and chuckled.  
“I know you don’t have any, Hawks, but the Weasley twins are my friends.” Katharine refuted, hands on her hands, getting impatient.  
“Yeah, like that’s believable. I bet you couldn’t wait to get your hands on them, especially after your family decided tradition wasn’t important anymore after what happened last year.” Emilia sucked in a breath, stepping down from the steps, taking her stand behind Katharine, whose cheeks were getting redder by the second.  
“You might want to watch your words, Hawks. You don’t want to end up in the infirmary, do you?” Katharine stepped forward, jaw clenched angrily. Alder stood his ground, obviously spurred on by her anger. His friends were starting to circle.  
“I don’t know, I think your parents might be happy to hear about the little threesome you have going on with the blood traitors.” Katharine took her wand out and held it by her side.  
“Blood traitors? Excuse me?”  
“You heard me. Having late night meetings with the Weasleys. Makes a good title for the Daily Prophet, doesn’t it? Now boys, which would you choose if you were Silverwood here, me, or the Weasley twins?” Just as soon as he finished his sentence, there was a flash of light and Alder was being stumbled back, a hand on his nose.  
“Be careful Hawks, no girls going to want you now that you look, act, and talk like a pig.” Alder released his hands from his nose, revealing the pink nose of a pig. His friends, including Emilia burst into laughter.  
Katharine and Emilia immediately escaped upstairs, relieved to finally be able to relax. Katharine sat up in bed, face unreadable.  
“You know he was lying to stir you up. Nobody in Slytherin looks at you any differently because of Violet.” Emilia reassured her, but Katharine just turned away, the light flicking off.  
Christmas break was boring for Katharine. Her father, as always, worked through most of it. They spent most of the week sitting in the living room, fire roaring, drinking tea, and reading.  
On the last day of break, her father surprised them by bringing the Malfoys for dinner. They all sat at the long dining room table in silence. At the end of the table, Lucius Malfoy and her father engaged in a heated conversation.  
“The food is wonderful, Imogene.” Narcissa made conversation, Draco sat uncomfortably next to Violet, who awkwardly poked at her food. Katharine was itching to find out what her father and Lucius Malfoy were talking about.  
“Thank you, Narcissa. It is so nice to see you.” Katharine’s mother responded. Her plate sat full in front of her, untouched.  
“Katharine, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you, you couldn’t have been older than eight.” Narcissa noted, Katharine smiled shyly, still leaning over to hopefully catch a sliver of the conversation between the two men.  
Thankfully, the two men finally went into the parlor, and Katharine’s mother and Narcissa cleared the table. Quietly, Katharine slipped away and leaned her ear against the door to the parlor.  
“I am almost certain that this plan will work, Edan. I slipped the book-”  
“What are you doing?” Draco stood in the opening of the hallway, his tight mouth scrunched up in confusion.  
“Shove off, Malfoy.” Katharine responded, waving her hands in front of him to get him to go away. Just as Draco wandered off, the parlor door swung open, making Katharine stumble backwards.  
“If you wanted to come in, Katharine, you could’ve. No need to stand in the doorway.” Her father told her, looking stern and angry. Katharine apologized quietly and quickly fled from the hallway. She found herself sitting at the small kitchen table with Violet and Draco, who were discussing Gilderoy Lockhart, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.  
“So, Katharine, any interesting boys this year?” Narcissa asked, and Katharine grimaced, eyes widening. Draco had seen the whole ordeal with Alder Hawks. Quickly, as Draco was beginning to open his mouth, she swung her foot straight into his knee, causing him to double over.  
“No, not this year.” But Narcissa was now focusing on Draco, who was still groaning.  
“Draco, are you alright?” Draco’s head shot up, looking at Narcissa, then at Katharine’s glowering expression.  
“Ye-yes, just stomach cramps, too much dessert, I suppose.”  
Later that evening, after Malfoy's left, Katharine’s father and her sat silently in front of the fireplace.  
“Katharine, do you know what this is?” Her father said into the empty air. When Katharine looked over, he had rolled up his sleeve, revealing a faded Dark Mark. As quickly as she looked over, Katharine looked away in fear. Just the sight of it made her nauseous.  
“Katharine.”  
“Y-yes, Sir.”  
There was a pointed silence. He rolled his sleeve back down, and took a deep breath. Katharine continued to watch the fire, hoping to get the burning image out of her head to no avail.  
“There will be a day when this mark will become part of you. It is your legacy. Do you understand?” Katharine got up and ran towards the trashcan across the room, and vomited.  
“You look different.” Katharine and Fred sat at the small beach a few weeks after christmas break. It was the first real rest they got from classes. It was Friday evening before dinner, George and Emilia were still studying. They seeked out respite near the water. Violet picked flowers by the edge of the water, and Fred was finding flat rocks and skipping them.  
The question prompted Violet to lift her head up and look at Katharine, who shifted uncomfortably on the bench.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She mumbled, pushing her head further into her green scarf. Fred shrugged, turning back to skipping rocks.  
The year continued in a blur. Katharine barely registered the oddities that were occurring at the school, but she knew enough that it meant to keep Violet closer.  
“Did you hear about Granger? And Creevey? Rons losing it. So is Harry.” Fred, George, and Katharine were walking outside, their hands shoved in the sweatshirt pockets as the weather was in the strange between cold and warm.  
“I heard. It’s scary. I’m worried about Violet.”  
“I wouldn’t worry too much Kat, it seems to only be targeting Gryffindors.” Katharine chuckled, shaking her head.  
“Thanks Georgie, very reassuring.”  
“Anytime, Silverwood.”  
They finally figured out who Alder was hexed by when Katharine did it again, this time in the peripherals of Snape. She received two days detention, scrubbing cauldrons with Snape.  
“I’m surprised to see a Silverwood lashing out.” Snape watched with a close eye as Katharine miserably scrubbed the bottom of a particularly hairy cauldron.  
“Well we can’t all be prefects like Adolph.” Katharine mumbled in response, slightly gagging into the cauldron. Snape huffed, and moved on to torture another poor soul in detention.  
“Why are you out so late?” speaking of Adolph, he stopped Katharine on her way back to the common room after detention. She looked at him like he had three heads.  
“Adolph, it's six pm. Curfews not until eight.” Adolph huffed, crossing his arms across his chest like her mother.  
“They extended it to six because of what’s been happening. Do you even listen at meals?”  
“No, no I don’t.” Katharine grinned sarcastically at him, and walked into the common room. Despite their sort-of playful back and forth, Katharine couldn’t help but wonder; were her cousins being recruited by the Dark Lord too? Do they even know that their parents are supposedly trying to bring him back?  
“Something on your mind, Silverwood?” Alder sat on the sofa by the fire, still nursing half of a blue face from Katharine’s last hex. He looked at her, condescendingly, but Katharine kept walking, giving him the middle finger without a second thought.  
“How was it?” Emilia asked, sitting up on her bed with a book open in front of her. Katharine groaned, shoving her shoves off, untying her tie lazily.  
“Awful. Did you know that curfew was extended?”  
“Yeah, I told you that yesterday.”  
“Oh.” Katharine pulled off her sweater and button-up. Emilia put down her book, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. They were the only ones in their dorm.  
“Be honest, Kat, did something happen over christmas break? You’re… acting different.” Katharine sighed, slumping down on her bed, defeatedly.  
“No, no it’s fine. I’m just tired.”  
The year moved too fast for Katharine’s liking. The last thing she wanted to do was go home. Everytime she closed her eyes, all she could see was her father’s dark mark.  
“Come on, Reed, just write aunty and tell her I want to stay for a few weeks!” Katharine was chasing her cousin down the hall in between classes. For days, she’s been trying to convince him to let her come stay in july. Katharine always liked it there, and she knew that her aunt and Alvena would be more than happy to let her stay.  
“For the last time Kat, no! If you want to so bad, you write it yourself!” Reed got lost in the straggle of first years that swarmed the hallways. Katharine huffed. That night in the common room, she approached Adolph with a fake smile.  
“A-”  
“Stop. I already wrote mum. Don’t bother me anymore.” He barely looked up from his book. Katharine smiled, practically skipping up to the dorms.  
Out in the countryside, Katharine was happy to stay with her extended family. Her mother even brought Violet for a few days to make the visit even better.  
On the last day of her visit, Katharine and her aunt were making an apple pie. Her aunt suddenly put down her cooking utensils and shifted her glance to Katharine.  
“So, I love having you here, Kat, but what was the real reason for your visit?” She asked, leaning against the counter, abandoning mixing the apples and sugar. Katharine avoided her glance, rolling out the crust.  
“I wasn’t prepared for growing up, I guess.” Katharine mumbled, taking her anger out on the rolling pin. Before she could destroy the counter, her aunt took the rolling pin from her, forcing Katharine to make eye contact.  
“What do you mean? Has your father done something?” Katharine folded her arms into herself, tears aching to roll down her cheeks.  
“I’m scared of becoming something I fear I’m not.” Katharine choked, falling into her aunts open arms.  
“Darling, you’re fourteen. You don’t have to worry about that for a long time. By then, you’ll know it was the right thing.” Katharine pushed herself away, her mouth open in shock. Her aunt’s face didn’t falter. It was really what she believed.  
When Katharine returned home, she began to write to Fred.  
Dear Fred,  
I hope your summers well.  
Do you ever get the feeling like you don’t belong in your family? Like what you’re supposed to do is wrong?  
I wrote this letter at midnight, please take it with a grain of salt. And it’s my birthday.  
Fifteen. Crazy, right?  
Say hello to George,  
Kat Silverwood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So :D


	4. 1993 - 1/2

August 30, Katharine found a parcel on her desk, wrapped in newspaper. On a small piece of paper attached to the string, was the name Frederick Pidgewidgeon. Slipped between the paper and the wrapped string, was a folded letter.   
Dear Kit,   
Sorry for such a late response to your lovely and mildly concerning letter in July. The other redheads and I have been vacationing in Egypt (See newspaper clip- Don’t let Ron know I stole it- it was supposed to go to Harry).   
As a late birthday present, please enjoy this rock I found. George said it probably brought good luck, so maybe if you shake it, you can fly out of Silverwood manor. Also, your favorite.   
Georgie says hello,   
Fred   
P.s. I’ve realized I spelled your name wrong, so you should get that legally changed before school starts.   
Inside the package was the rock, as specified in the letter, and a chocolate bar.   
Katharine couldn’t wait to get back to Hogwarts. All summer, her father has been having secret meetings with people she’d never seen before, and he kept the door open, almost asking Katharine to join them.   
Violet and Katharine sat by the small river beside their house, halfway in the shade and halfway in the sun. Violet’s big-rimmed hat kept getting in the way of her picking flowers, and she kept bumping the grass and mumble-cursing quietly.   
They had seen Draco a few times that summer, and Katharine was quite shocked by just how much he’d grown. He shot up a few inches, now just a bit taller than Violet. They no longer sat by the river, but they did walk about the garden occasionally.   
“What’s that?” Violet asked, knocking Katharine out of a deep stare across the water. She looked down at the letter in her hands, which Violet was motioning towards.   
“Letter from Fred. They went to Egypt.” Violet huffed, placing her flowers in the small pocket of her gardening apron.   
“I wish we went on fancy vacations. The farthest we’ve been is to auntys.” Violet whined, making Katharine crack a smile. Once the moment passed, Katharine was thrown back to the blank stare on her aunt’s face, the peeking black figure on her arm.  
“Girls, are you all packed?” Their mother had come out of the house, her dress blowing in the light wind. She had a hand above her eyes, blocking the sunlight.   
“Oh! I’m not.” Violet stood up, abandoning her spot by the tree to run back inside. Katharine folded up the letter, pushing herself up straight onto the tree trunk. She wished for a hat, then.   
To Katharine’s surprise, her mother didn’t go back inside, she brushed off her dress and sat beside Katharine at the tree trunk. Her tight bun let a few baby hairs fly away, framing her face. In that moment, her mother looked strikingly like Violet. Innocent, happy.   
“I’ve heard some interesting news from Hogwarts.”   
“What is it?” Katharine asked, still fumbling with the tightly folded letter. Her mother brushed at her dress lightly, watching the water ebb and flow gently.   
“An old friend of mine is filling in for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Remus Lupin. He’s agreed to help you with your practice OWL’s.”   
Katharine just nodded, head down, pulling the grass.   
“Oh, and before I forget, there is no Adolph protection from the professors this year. Please make sure not to get into trouble.” Her mother stood up, kissing the top of Katharine’s head lightly. She brushed off her dress, and walked back inside.   
Her mother’s warnings fell on deaf ears, as on the second day of classes, Katharine was engaged in a full blown duel with a Hufflepuff girl who had called her a bitch in Runology. Fred and George had dragged her off before too much damage had been done, the three of them hiding in a secluded hallway.   
“That was a close one. What’s gotten into you?” George asked. Nobody had time to respond as they all swiveled at the sound of footsteps approaching. Professor Lupin, as announced at the feast on the first night, walked by them, slow as ever.   
“Fred, George, Katharine. Spitting images of your respected parents.” He started, a playful grin on his face. For the first time in their lives, all three of them sheepishly nodded and kept their eyes downcast.   
“I’m excited to see all of you in class. Katharine, make sure to bring your top-notch dueling skills with you to class, and to detention on friday night.” Lupin waved, and disappeared around the corner. As soon as he was gone, Katharine groaned, sliding down against the wall. The twins sat on either side of her, the three of them looked defeated.   
“How does he know our parents?”   
“Maybe he had an affair with mum. And Kit’s mum.”   
“Don’t say that.”   
“What? Lupin had an affair with a bunch of middle-aged mums?”   
“No. Kit. my name is Katharine. The affair idea is pretty good.”   
The closet shook violently. Katharine swallowed a lump in her throat, trying to focus more on Lupin’s voice than the menacing closet in front of them.   
“-The boggart will take the shape of what you fear the most. The spell is Riddikulus. Repeat after me-” Katharine blurred out what he said after that. Emilia pulled her along into line as all the rest of their classmates fought to be first. Fred. George, Emilia and Katharine were squished into the middle.   
“I bet it's going to look like dad after three days of not shaving.” George whispered, watching another gryffindor turn a snake into a slinky.   
“No, Ron after somebody breaks his chessboard.”   
“Mum after the car incident.” The twins shuddered at that thought.   
Before they knew it, Fred had pushed Katharine in front of the closet after she stood frozen in place. Wand at the ready, the closet shook violently, before the dark figures emerged. A shadowed figure approached, a slithery arm revealed the Dark Mark. they offered their hand.   
“Join me.” The prominent voice boomed. Katharine, shaking, took a few steps back before she tripped over her own shoe, falling backwards, having to crawl away. As it got closer and closer, Fred slid in front of her, wand at the ready. The hooded figure grew ten inches, and started to laugh maniacally. After a moment, the figure became a small baby, crying.   
Lupin pushed the boggart back into the closet, locking it.   
“That’s enough for today.” The students at the back of the line, groaned, and dispersed. Katharine remained on the ground, motionless. Every moment that had led to this being her biggest fear made her glassy eyed and unresponsive.  
“Kit? You in there, Kat?” Fred and Emilia were crouched in front of her when she came to, still clutching her wand for dear life.   
“If I could have a word with Katharine, please, Weasley, Dots?” Lupin stood behind Katharine. Sheepishly and slowly, Emilia and Fred left, George trailing behind. Katharine stood, shakily.   
“Chocolate?” Lupin had produced a piece of chocolate, offering it to Katharine, who gratefully accepted.   
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your lesson.” Katharine mumbled, sitting down at a nearby table.   
“You didn’t. I already had Potter today.” Katharine chuckled lightly, slowly eating the chocolate.   
“I’m surprised your sister is a Hufflepuff.”   
“Everybody is.”   
“How is your mother?”  
“She’s good.”   
Lupin nodded, not responding. They sat in silence for a few moments. Katharine was glad this was her last class of the day.  
“How do you know her?”   
“Your mother? She was a few years before me when we attended Hogwarts. She tutored me in Runology. Not your forte, it seems.” Katharine grinned lopsidedly.   
“I haven’t seen her since...well, since you were born. We write, occasionally. I didn’t know she married Silverwood until I met you a few weeks ago.”   
“Thank you for the chocolate, Professor Lupin.” Katharine stood, picking up her bag.   
“Don’t forget, detention tomorrow. I have few things in mind that we can practice.”   
Outside Lupin’s classroom, Fred was waiting, pacing back and forth. He looked bored, but once he saw Katharine, his face visibly brightened.   
“What happened?”   
“Nothing. He gave me chocolate.”   
“No, I mean in class.”   
“Oh. That.” Katharine kept walking, Fred trailing behind her, his face scrunched in confusion.   
“Kat?” Fred asked, following Katharine as she walked towards the courtyard. A bench by the fountain was empty, and Katharine fell onto it with a sigh.   
“I bet everybody thinks I’m a deatheater now.” She mumbled. Fred dug around in his bag until he pulled out a seemingly melted chocolate bar. He offered some, but Katharine declined.   
“Since when did opinions bother you? You hex people before they finish their insult,” Katharine laughed, shaking her head, “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re a death eater.”   
“Thanks Fred.”   
They sat in silence for a while, Fred eating the sticky chocolate. When Katharine looked up, she could see the faint outlines of the dementors high up in the sky.   
“It must be really serious, huh?” Fred looked at Katharine in surprise, who was still looking up. His hand was coated in melted chocolate.  
“You’re not worried? An escaped convict and murderer on the loose?” Fred asked, looking frightened at his own words. Katharine cracked a knowing smile at him.  
“Weasley, as far as I’m concerned, my family is more dangerous than Sirius Black will ever be.” Fred began to wipe his hand on the inside of his robes. Katharine cringed and looked away.   
“My parents are really worried about Harry. I dunno why.”   
Again, comfortable silence filled the edges of their conversation. They people-watched the students walking back and forth across the courtyard, hurrying to meet their friends or to get to class.   
“You know, you and George are probably the best thing to happen to me. I don’t have to try that hard to be… to be a Slytherin, I guess. I’d say the same thing about Violet, but everytime I try to relax around her I remember that I'm her only protection. I had my cousins, because we were all Slytherin, but my family has never taken Violet seriously. It’s like they’ve given up on her. I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost her.” a warm, non-chocolatey hand slipped to intertwine with Katharine’s. Fred smiled lightly at her, then looked away.   
“Same with George. He’s the mental stopper in my head saying ‘maybe we shouldn’t do that.’” Fred smiled, and Katharine laughed.   
They sat like that, holding hands and silent, until the sun began to set and students began to walk towards dinner.   
“I know how to duel already.” Katharine exclaimed, watching Lupin push tables back to create an open space in the classroom. Katharine was the only student there.   
“Wrong. You know how to attack and cause harm in a duel, but you don’t know how to protect.” Lupin said, pointedly, causing Katharine's cheek to flare red.   
“I learned all parts of dueling when I was young! I can attack and protect!” Before she could protest more, Lupin threw a spell at her, causing her to drop to the floor, watching it bounce off the walls.   
“Did you just try to attack a student?”   
“I was proving a point. You didn’t know how to protect yourself when I attacked.” Katharine stood up, looking defeated, but still angry.   
They bounced spells back and forth, and Katharine learned how to successfully reverberate a spell instead of just ducking. Once Lupin said they were done, she helped him fix the tables, and sat down in a chair.   
“I was eleven when my father taught me how to duel. All i knew what to do was duck and cover,” Katharine mumbled, shoulders slumped over, “Before I got my wand, he would just cast spells and I had to hold up a shield and name the spell.”   
Lupin leaned against the desk, his arms folded, “Sounds cruel. What he did to you was cruel.”   
Katharine looked up, eyes wide and mouth parted. For the first time, an adult talked to her and didn’t belittle her, saying she was too young to understand.  
“You know, you don’t have to become him. You have a choice in what happens in your life.” Katharine registered what Lupin was saying, but the voice in the back of her head was telling her to not listen. Everything she’d ever heard growing up was to embrace tradition. Never falter. But with Lupin, Katharine could feel the weight of a Silverwood army falling from her shoulders. She could see the future she wanted, just ahead, clouded by darkness.   
“I’ll see you on Monday for class, Katharine. Have a good weekend.” Katharine picked up her bag, and took a long time to leave the classroom.   
“-I’m just saying, if you’re going to be that slimy of a person, don’t tell me that I’ve done my potion wrong.” Emilia and Katharine were walking arm and arm in Hogsmeade, wrapped up tight in heavy coats and hats. The snow was drifting to the ground. Emilia’s eyelashes were snowy,, and Katharine’s black coat was dusted white. Emilia glanced at her watch, and stopped in front of the Three Broomsticks.   
“Okay, this is where I’m supposed to meet Orion. Wish me luck?” Katharine smiled, wiping a stray snowflake from Emilia’s cheek.   
“Good luck on your date, Dots.” Emilia blushed, and turned around at somebody calling her name. Orion Button, a sixth year slytherin, was walking towards them.   
“Emilia, Katharine.” He greeted, a bright smile on his face.   
“Have fun, kids.” Katharine waved goodbye, heading down the street by herself. She stopped in front of the window of Honeydukes, seeing Fred and George prank a poor second year just trying to buy a chocolate frog.   
“Look who it is! Kit Silverplank!”   
“Silverplank? My name is Kit Silverplank now?” Katharine greeted, taking her snowy hat off her head, “Where have you two been? We were supposed to meet an hour ago, I had to stand there awkwardly before Emilia’s date.”   
“Sorry, we were off on official business with Mr. Potter. Top Secret.” George told her, moving a box of Fizzing Whizzbees to the top shelf.   
“You got an eyelash on your cheek,” Fred told her, and before Katharine could flick it off, Fred swiped his forefinger across her cheek, holding the eyelash up to her mouth, “Make a wish, Kit.”   
“I wish… for some of those toffees.” Katharine blew gently on the eyelash, still blushing from the look on Fred’s face, which was somewhere between affectionate and playful.   
The trio made their way out of Honeydukes after Katharine purchased some toffees for herself and Emilia later after details of her date. They made sure to make kissing noises at them outside of the Three Broomsticks.   
“What are you doing?” A voice said behind them, just as George began to motion that he was fake-vomiting in the window. They turned, facing Violet and two other third years.  
“Violet!” Katharine exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. It had only been a few days since she’d last seen her, but those were becoming few and far between lately.   
“Hi Kat. These are my good friends, Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.” Katharine gave a small wave, before offering some toffee.  
“Oh! Toffee! Could you point out Honeydukes?”   
The three third years were off after the twins both pointed down the road, and then stole a piece of toffee for themselves.   
“Strange choice of friends, I’ll say.” Fred mumbled, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. Katharine furrowed her eyebrows and elbowed his arm.   
“My sister's choice of friends are perfectly fine. Also, you two have no room to talk.”   
“I didn’t say anything!”  
“I knew you were thinking about it, Georgie.”   
Later that night, Emilia and Katharine sat in the library, abandoned runology books in front of them, eating toffee.   
“-So he says, you’re beautiful, and I want to vomit because he is absolutely gorgeous.” Katharine nods at Emilia’s words, Orion Button was the best looking boy in all of sixth year.   
“He’s right, you know. Any guy would be lucky to have you. I’m surprised you haven’t been pulling them before.” Katharine chewed a piece of toffee sloppily, flipping idly through her book, an empty piece of parchment in front of her.   
“What about you and Mr. Weasley? You two have seemed pretty..comfortable this year.” Emilia wiggled her eyebrows, leaning back in her chair. Katharine blushed, taking a deep breath as she finished her toffee.   
“Well, he did do this weird thing today,” Emilia jolted, sitting up in her chair, excited, “he plucked a lost eyelash from my cheek and said ‘make a wish.’ then put it at my lips.”   
Emilia laughed, and was shushed by a ravenclaw nearby. With a hand on her mouth, she went on silently laughing at Katharine’s face of embarrassment.   
“Hello ladies,” Both girls jumped in their seats, turning to see a twin standing behind them. Immediately, Katharine took one look at his cocky grin and good posture, and knew it was George. He leaned between them, taking a piece of toffee, “Working on runology, are we?”  
“George, how long have you been standing there?” Katharine asked, mouth gaping. He pulled up a chair, sitting next to Emilia.   
“Long enough. Was waiting for a girl, but it seems I’ve been blown off. Either of you know a...Sara Rivers?” George read the name off a piece of paper that seemed to have been ripped off the bottom of a piece of parchment.   
“She’s a hufflepuff. You like hufflepuffs?” Emilia raised her eyebrows, watching George shove the paper back in his pocket, and shrug.   
“I don’t discriminate. If it moves, I’ll flirt with it.” Katharine and Emilia grimaced at the saying, making George laugh.   
“Gross. There she is.” Emilia pointed out the nervous looking blonde girl at the entryway of the library. George patted Katharine on the back, and went to go to talk to her.   
“Oh, merlin. I hope George can keep his mouth shut.”   
“Are you kidding me, Kat? They’re identical twins. I’m sure Fred already knows. Maybe it’ll spur him on.” Katharine groaned, hiding her embarrassment in her runology homework.   
Katharine was very, very behind in her classes. Between weekend excursions with the twins that would get them in serious trouble if caught, and practicing defensive spells with Lupin during the week, she was beginning to neglect her other classes. It came to a point where she sat in McGonagall's office, sheepish.   
“Ms. Silverwood, have you been thinking about what you would like to do with your future?” Mcgonagall asked. It was a perfectly normal question, but the word future made her icy cold, and she bit her lip anxiously.  
“I haven’t a clue, Professor.” Mcgonagall pursed her lips, and pulled out a small paper-clipped file. On the front, in perfect letters, was Katharine’s name.   
“From what i can see, Ms. Silverwood, you excel in potions, defense against the dark arts and… runology. Have you ever considered becoming an auror?” Katharine looked down, twiddling her hands. Katharine had always been told that she had no place in becoming an auror. They were the enemy.   
“Especially with the recent escape of Sirius Black, I feel that I must urge you to deeply consider this. As seen by your past excursions in detention, I know how well you handle a wand. And you’re sneaky, at that. Please, take some time to speak with Professor Lupin.” Professor Mcgonagall gave her a tight-lipped smile, and ushered her out the door.   
To Katharine’s dismay, Lupin wasn’t in his classroom. Snape, who opened the door, explained that he was sick, and closed the door with a snap.   
“Oi, Silverplank!” Fred’s head peeked out from behind a false wall outside Lupin’s classroom. In his hand, three dung bombs connected to a trigger wire.   
“A little surprise for Snape after he hit me with a book today.” Fred gingerly rubbed at his head, setting the dung bombs down. He perfected his prank, stepping over the tripwire.   
“Where are you off to?” He asked, pulling his bag onto his shoulder. Snow was falling heavily as the sun set, filling the small glass panes with snow.   
“The library. I need to start thinking about my ‘future,’ per Mcgonagall.” Katharine mumbled, struggling to carry the new How to Be a Law-Abiding Auror 101 that Snape had thrown at her in haste.   
“Auror, eh? Didn’t strike me as the type.” Fred laughed, holding open the library double-doors for her.   
“Me neither. I may as well look for something once I'm disowned when my father sees my grades.” Katharine muses, dropping her bag and books onto an empty table in the Magical Creatures section.   
“That bad, huh?” Fred said, and Katharine dropped her head in her hands, “Well, I have to be off, I’m about to be late for Quidditch.”  
“In this weather?” Katharine inquired, looking out the snowy window. Fred just shrugged, grinning, and walked off.   
Katharine spent the better of three hours in the library, catching up on late assignments and extra credit. By the time Emilia found her, dinner was over, and she had a pumpkin pasty wrapped in a napkin.   
They walked back to the Slytherin common room together, Katharine eating the pumpkin pasty slowly, trying to relish it, as she was likely to not get much else tonight.   
“Oi, Silverwood!” Near the entrance to the common room, Malfoy stood awkwardly, hands shoved in his pockets.   
“Malfoy.” Katharine raised her eyebrows, shoving the now empty napkin in her pocket, reaching for the books Emilia had been kindly carrying for her.   
“I was...um.. What kind of flowers does Violet like?” The question was surprising, that Emilia accidentally burst into laughter. After a moment of her giggling, she awkwardly apologized and ran away. Katharine watched her go before stepping closer to Malfoy.   
“What’s it to you, Malfoy? Have a crush?” She spoke darkly, leveling her eyes with Malfoy, who swallowed hard.   
“Well-”   
“You know what, Malfoy? Once you learn how to be kind and not bully people, I’ll let you know. Unless you can put two and two together, you blithering idiot.” Katharine walked away, but she could hear his groan and a smack when he facepalmed.   
“How’d it go with the loverboy?” Emilia giggled on her bed as Katharine entered the dormitory. Katharine groaned, dropping her things onto her chest.   
“I can’t believe the sheer bravery that little bastard has! If i could risk another detention, he would’ve been speaking to the business end of my wand.” Emilia laughed, shedding her robes and putting on her pajamas. As the mermaids began to emerge in front of their window, the rest of their roommates began to mill around the room. Melissa Prott, a downright nasty girl, who had the bed on the opposite side of Katharine, took one glance at Katharine’s new auror book and scoffed.   
“Wow, I thought Alder was lying, but I suppose he was right.” Katharine looked up, watching Melissa take off her outer robes, eyeing Katharine with a glare. When she didn’t respond, Melissa huffed.   
“So is it true then, Silverwood? Are you a traitor?”   
“Whatever do you mean, Prott.” Katharine continued reading, until Melissa pried the book from her hands, holding it up indignantly. Katharine immediately stood, clad in pajamas, wand in hand.   
“Give me back the book, Prott.”  
“No. I asked you a question. Are you a traitor now?”   
“Since when does wanting to become an auror make me an enemy?” The other girls were beginning to perk up, standing up.   
“Real purebloods don’t hunt down their own families.” With a flash, Emilia had thrown a vomiting hex at Melissa, and both Katharine and Melissa ducked away. After a moment of shocked silence, the whole room erupted in a full-blown battle. It was obvious which girls had picked sides, but Katharine was too busy hitting Melissa with every innocent-enough hex she had. The fight progressed, and soon they had left the stage of hexes, which led to particularly dirty spells. It almost looked like an impromptu dueling lesson, if Katharine hadn’t looked so dangerous.   
“Avada Kedavra!” Melissa shouted, launching the spell towards Katharine, who ducked, watching it hit the bedpost in a green explosion. In that moment, the whole room stopped, and everybody looked towards Melissa in shock.  
“Did you.. Just try to kill me?” Katharine asked, lowly, absolutely shocked that a fifteen year old had just thrown the killing curse at her. Melissa swallowed, still holding her wand menacingly.  
“And I’d do it again-” Before Melissa could do anything, Katharine cast the confundus charm at her, watching Melissa fall back onto her bed.   
“Come on, get her arm.” Katharine said to Emilia, who helped her stumble Melissa out of the dormitory. The whole room followed, all looking dumbfounded. Looking completely serious and angry, Katharine turned down the corridor, towards the busy common room.   
“What’s this?” The new prefect, Perry Crooks inquired, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, stepping in front of the odd looking group.   
“Melissa tried to kill me during a hexing row. I’m going to Dumbledore.” Katharine explained, watching Perry’s eyes widen, and he stepped out of the way, joining the group on their excursion.   
Having Perry with them actually proved to be useful, because no professors bothered prefects. They made it as far as the staircase to Dumbledore’s office, when Melissa really began to start twisting and complaining, beginning to realize the error of her ways.  
“Please, Katharine, I’m sorry! Please, don’t! They’ll throw me in Azkaban!” For a moment, Katharine could feel the pang of guilt deep in her chest, but it was taken over by the anger that was pitted in her stomach.  
“Well, then, maybe you shouldn’t have tried to kill me, huh?” Melissa struggled and screamed all the way up the winding staircase, before the whole group was face to face with the Headmaster. Dumbledore turned to them slowly, accompanied with Mcgonagall.   
“Ms. Silverwood, Mr. Crooks, what seems to be the problem?” Dumbledore asked, calm as ever. In that moment, Katharine felt her throat close up, her arm tightening around the struggling Melissa. Perry elbowed her in the ribs.   
“Headmaster, Melissa and I had a row in our dormitory, and we began to have a hexing fight. She thought it clever to cast the Killing curse at me. I narrowly dodged, and she threatened to do it again. Everybody but Perry here are witnesses.” Suddenly very serious, Dumbledore crossed his desk, and approached the group.   
“Ms. Prott, Is this true?”  
“I said I was sorry! I’m sorry!” Melissa cried, still fighting the grip. Dumbledore pursed his lips, he took a sweeping look around the room, before turning back to Katharine.  
“Well, Ms. Silverwood, what should we do?” Katharine gaped, loosening her grip in shock. Mcgonagall came forward, about to protest, before she stopped. Dumbledore was testing her.   
“I..I..” Then, there was the sparkle in Dumbledore's eyes as Katharine stumbled, he nodded as if he knew the answer.   
“Very well. Please, If Ms. Silverwood, Ms. Prott and I could have the room. Professor Mcgonagall, if would be as so kind as to please get in touch with Ms. Prott’s parents immediately.” The room cleared out, leaving Dumbledore, Katharine and Melissa alone. Katharine sat in a chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk. Melissa had a death grip on her own chair, visibly shaking.   
“Ms. Prott, where did you learn the Killing curse?” Dumbledore asked, facing the window. His hands were behind his back, his stance was relaxed. Melissa didn’t answer, and Dumbledore didn’t push it.   
After ten minutes of silence, Melissa’s parents materialized from the green flames in the fireplace. Dumbledore turned, facing her very confused parents.   
“What’s the matter? What’s happened?” Her father questioned immediately, as her mother rushed over to comfort a crying Melissa.   
“Mr. Prott, Mrs. Prott, please, sit.” They exchanged a look, and remained standing. Katharine looked down at her hands when Mr. Prott looked her way.  
“Silverwood? Have they gotten into a row again? Did you call us for a row?”   
“Well, technically, I have. But something happened during this particular row that was a matter of urgency.” Mrs. Prott carefully brushed some hair out of Melissa’s face, a comforting arm around her.   
“Well?”   
“Mr. Prott, Mrs. Prott, Melissa cast the Killing curse with the intention of killing Ms. Silverwood. When she missed, Ms. Silverwood and five witnesses proclaimed that she tried casting again, and she would’ve done it if Ms. Silverwood hadn’t cast a confundus charm.” As Dumbledore spoke, Mrs. Prott dislodged her arms from Melissa in shock, taking a few steps back. Melissa sucked in a deep cry, and fell over the side of the chair, sobbing harder.   
“She is hereby expelled from Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Here are the details of her hearing, sent from the Ministry just minutes ago.” Dumbledore handed a letter to a shocked Mrs. Prott, and Mr. Prott pushed Melissa through the fireplace. The family was gone in five minutes. It was just Katharine and Dumbledore.   
“Would you like me to send an owl to your family?” Dumbledore asked, taking a seat at his desk.   
“No, thank you, Professor.” Katharine got up, feeling suddenly insecure in her pajamas.   
“Wait, Ms. Silverwood,” Katharine turned back to Dumbledore, who stood slowly, “Are you absolutely sure? What happened tonight would be traumatic for any witch or wizard.”   
Katharine nodded, a grim smile on her face, and left Dumbledore’s office.   
Perry was waiting against the wall as Katharine left. He stood up straight, and the two of them headed down towards the Slytherin dormitories.   
“Your friend had to be threatened with detention to finally leave.” Perry told her, as they descended down the stairs, Katharine grinned tiredly at him.   
“What was the verdict?”   
“She was expelled. Dumbledore gave them a Ministry hearing letter, but I don’t know when.”   
“I’m still shocked she even knew the incantation. It’s just skirted around in class. Nobody ever says it.”   
“She heard it at home. Which means that her parents aren’t who they say they are.” Katharine mumbled. Perry abruptly stopped, watching Katharine keep walking, before running to catch up.   
Word spread quickly about what happened in their dormitory. The story was quickly elaborated for dramatic context, and for the next week, Katharine was pulled aside multiple times to verify that the information was incorrect.   
Every time Katharine closed her eyes, she saw and heard Melissa scream-crying when her mother backed away from her. Melissa was just a child, with anger, who made a wrong turn, and relied too heavily on what her parents told her.   
Katharine’s insomnia kept her up all hours of the night, which meant she got a lot of her make-up work done, and meant she slept through classes. After sleeping through defense against the dark arts, Lupin gave her a package of five vials of sleeping draught. Katharine slept, for the first time in two weeks, without seeing dark marks, Melissa crying, or her aunt's blank face.   
On the weekends, Katharine participated in the twins’ silly pranks, just to forget for a while. They bought out the stock at Zonkos, and spent the rest of Saturdays and Sundays pranking ghosts, students, and professors alike.   
“Are you going to be alright this break?” Fred asked suddenly, while the two of them were preparing a tripwire dung bomb on Snape, again. Katharine looked at him, her smile melting away when she saw the concern on his face.  
“Yeah, I’ll be alright. Don’t worry.” Katharine told him, stepping away from the tripwire. Fred didn’t seem quite convinced, but he did drop the conversation.   
Katharine made sure to hide her How to be a Law-Abiding Auror 101 deep in her chest before she left for Christmas break.  
Much to Katharine’s surprise, their extended family, including Adolph and Reed, who had just begun new Ministry jobs, were staying with them for Christmas break. The house felt rigid, uncomfortably full. The house elves worked double-time, and Katharine couldn’t help but feel bad for them, especially when she saw how badly her family treated them.   
“You know, you could be nicer to them. It’s unfair to treat them like that.” Katharine snapped at Reed, who’d gone on a shouting tangent at one of the house elves who made his tea wrong. Reed didn’t answer, just stared at Katharine with his eyebrows furrowed. Katharine continued on reading her book in silence.  
“How’s Weasley, Katharine?” Reed asked, sly grin on his face, watching Katharine jump, looking at him with shock. If anybody else had been in the room, Katharine would be in for it then.   
“I don’t see why it’s any of your business.”   
“Oh? So then you won’t mind if I tell Uncle-” Katharine put a hand out to stop him as he went to stand up.   
“Stop! Stop. I’m sorry, alright? Just please, please keep it to yourself.” Reed kept grinning at her, not saying a word. Katharine huffed, getting up and heading to her bedroom. She was counting down the days until she could return to Hogwarts.   
The day before Christmas, Katharine walked into the kitchen, and through the large window, she saw her mother, standing in the snow, black robes draped over her shoulders. Finding her boots and robes, Katharine opened the door, sheepishly walking up to her mother. She hated the snow.   
“What is it, Mum?” Katharine’s mother turned to her, holding a letter with a shocked expression on her face.   
“You were...in mortal danger..and decided against calling us?” Her mother whispered, still rereading the letter. Katharine swallowed, biting her lip.  
“It wasn’t-”   
“You could’ve died. That’s what this letter says. You could’ve died, and you didn’t even think of calling your mother!” Her tone was raising quickly, and Katharine kept her eyes downcast, biting at the inside of her mouth.   
Her mother sighed, folding the letter. She paced, trudging through the snow. Neither of them spoke, outside in the cold.   
“You could leave him, you know,” Katharine said, looking up to watch her mother stop in her tracks, “You could still be the Hufflepuff you wished you were.”   
Her mother just stared at her, lip trembling like she was about to cry. She rushed forward, grabbing Katharine’s hand. Suddenly, the world twisted and blurred, and became normal again in the middle of a quiet town.  
“Do you need to vomit?” Her mother asked, and Katharine nodded, holding her mouth and stomach. She pointed to a secluded corner, and Katharine rushed over.   
“Where are we?” Katharine asked, after she had finished vomiting. She still felt nauseous, walking slowly.   
“Godric's Hollow. This is where I grew up.” The snow was falling, layering the town in a thin layer of silence. Christmas lights twinkled down the rows, witches and wizards could be heard singing Christmas carols in the distance.  
They ended up in a small cafe, with two teas on the table. Katharine became hyper-aware of their nice clothing, which she was accustomed to wearing at home, while everyone in the cafe looked exceedingly normal.   
“Why did you bring me here, mum?”   
“To show you what I gave up. What I gave up for love.” Outside of the large window, young parents followed after a bright-eyed toddler.   
“For...Father?” Katharine asked, holding onto her tea to regain some warmth in her hands. In this light, her mother looked extremely vulnerable.   
“No. My sister.” Two small girls skipped by the window, giggling as they went.   
“I didn’t know you had a sister.” Her mother let out a small chuckle, looking down at her untouched tea.   
“Cheyenne. Feisty, wonderful, loving. Extremely loyal. You know, like Violet, my family was surprised when I became a Slytherin. She was a part of the Order of the Phoenix during the rise of You Know Who. You know of the name?” Katharine nodded. She’d learned about it briefly in a History of Magic last year, but she hadn’t the closest idea of who was involved.   
“What happened to her?” Her mother shrugged, her shoulders tight.   
“Your father promised me safety during the war, so I married him. I made him promise to me that no one would ever hurt Cheyenne. Lupin wrote to me a long time ago to tell me that she went missing, and nobody ever found her. I was heartbroken.”   
“So, father didn’t keep his promise?” Katharine’s mother shook her head violently, drinking some of her tea before continuing.   
“You were five when I heard. The war had been long over by then. I was angry at him, but I knew, despite his obsession with being the best follower he could, he would’ve never betrayed my trust like that.”   
Katharine and her mother sat in silence, looking out the window, watching happy families laugh, smile, and drink.   
“I know you would do anything possible to keep Violet safe, and how much you love to love, but there will come a time when you need to decide. Would you rather lose everything, just for a sliver of happiness that will soon fade away?” Katharine's mother ran a comforting hand down the side of her face, watching Katharine’s face collapse in fear.   
“That’s not true.” Katharine refuted, lip trembling at her words. She thought of Fred. Of George. Emilia. She remembered Melissa, clinging to the chair, her life destroyed in ten minutes.   
“You’re fifteen. You’ll love again. No boy at Hogwarts is worth the amount of loss you’re doomed to suffer through.”   
“No! That’s not true! How do you even know if what you’re saying is true?”   
Katharine’s mother looked around the almost empty cafe, and muttered a muffling charm around the table. Katharine was on the verge of tears.   
“Once he rises again, you must submit. If not, it will be seen as a private insult, and you will lose everything that you have ever cared about. You don’t have to bear the mark- I don’t- just stay out of the way, and submit.” Katharine’s mother explained, eyes full of concern and sadness, clutching her teacup.   
“You are not the person I thought you were.” Katharine concluded.   
They made it home by dinnertime. Katharine shut herself away in her room for most of the break.   
“Kat? Kat.” Violet opened Katharine’s door, watching her twist and turn in bed, before sitting up.   
“Father wants to see you.” She groaned, watching Violet shut her door lightly. Katharine made her way to the study, clutching the rope that’s wrapped around her body tightly.   
Her father sat in the study, facing away from the door. Reed was standing there when Katharine walked in, but he left after a short silence.   
“You wanted to see me?”   
“Reed has told me about your rather public...adventures you’ve been having with the Weasley twins at school.”  
“We are friends.” Katharine stated, matter-of-factually, too exhausted to fight his words.   
“Which I specifically told you to not do!” Her father yelled, standing up and taking a few steps closer to her. The door shut. Katharine stared at him, eyes sunken in and face cold.   
“You can’t forbid me from having friends.” To Katharine’s surprise, she felt a painful sting to her face, and she was pushed back a few steps from the force of the slap. She gaped, holding onto her cheek, which was becoming redder by the second.   
“Once we become stronger, your defiance will not stand, girl.” Quickly, Katharine fished into her robes pocket for her wand, pulling it out and getting halfway through stupefaction before she was being sent back with a force into the door.   
“Stupid, stupid girl.” Her father muttered, opening and slamming the door shut on his way out. Katharine sat on the floor, still clinging to her cheek, her back aching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore make me >:(


	5. 1993 -2/2

Fred was the first person she saw at the platform at Kings Crossing. She pushed Violet forward, trying to avoid his eye. He saw her, smiling and pushing through people to get to her.   
“Hey, hey Kat! I’ve been meaning to talk to you-”   
“I’m sorry, Fred, I can’t talk right now.” Katharine told him, pushing her things up into the train, tugging Violet along by the hand.   
“What happened to your cheek?” Emilia asked, settling down in their compartment. Orion followed her in, settling down next to her, not speaking.   
“I fell.” Katharine told her, curling up against the window, smiling at Orion politely. Before long, the train rumbled along. Orion and Emilia spoke quietly, and Katharine saw their entwined hands. Emilia did say something about a date with him over break. Emilia pulled the newspaper clipping of Fred and his family out of her bag, which she had tucked it in for safekeeping. They all looked happy, innocent, loving.   
“Kat, do you happen to have four sickles?” Violet opened the compartment door, smiling at Emilia and Orion, before turning back to her sister, Luna peeked her head past Violet, waving politely.   
“Here. Could you get me a pumpkin pasty?” Katharine asked, handing Violet the sickles, her question falling on deaf ears as they hurried away.  
“I’ve got it.” Fred popped his head in, reaching in his pocket for money. George was beside him, a new scarf wrapped around his neck.   
“Kit. Emilia. And I’m sorry I don’t know your name..?” George greeted, turning to Orion, who stuck his hand out.  
“I’m Orion.” George just stared at his hand, and Orion sat back down. Fred handed Katharine the pumpkin pasty.   
“Thanks, Fred.” She mumbled, beginning to eat it slowly. The twins continued to stand in the doorway, awkwardly, like they were thirteen again.   
“Well, see you at the feast.” George said, and pulled Fred along.   
“Strange fellows.” Orion said, after they were gone.  
Katharine kept her distance from Fred and George for quite some time. Her weekends, instead of pranks and detention, were with Violet, or third-wheeling with Emilia and Orion, even though they didn’t seem to mind, as Orion called her good company.   
Katharine’s plan seemed to fail when on the way to potions, she was pulled by her arm into a secluded hallway that she knew very well, and should have known to avoid. Fred stood in front of her, his hand still grasping her arm lightly.   
“Are you avoiding us?”   
“What? No.”   
“You’re lying. I can see it all over your little scrunched up lying face.” Katharine sighed, looking away.   
“You remember, last year, when I said we couldn’t be friends?”   
“Yeah.”   
“Now I mean it.” Katharine told him, her voice soft. He reached out and lightly swiped a finger across the healing mark on her cheek. Katharine turned, and walked away.   
“Katharine,” She stopped, “I like you, I’ve liked you since we were thirteen and your stupid cat with a stupid name bit me in the library.”   
Katharine bit the inside of her cheek, feeling herself flush. Heartbreak ached away inside of her, but she still ran back and kissed him.   
When they pulled away from each other, Katharine grasped at his face, almost like she was afraid he was going to disappear.   
“Try not to think too terribly of me.” She whispered, and walked away.   
Katharine kept having the same recurring nightmare. Every time, it started with Fred, happy and smiling, but as she reached out to touch, his face would melt away, revealing the Black Lake, and a body floating face down, a yellow scarf floating on the edge.   
Katharine woke with a start. She was sweating and breathing heavily, but Socks just looked at her through tired eyes, and laid back down to sleep. She pulled back her curtains, facing Melissa’s empty and stripped bed. She stared at it, unable to hear anything but her screams.   
“Hello.” Downstairs in the common room, Perry the prefect sat on the couch, with a book open on his lap.   
“Perry. What time is it?” She asked, painfully aware of her messy hair, slippers, and green sleeping robe.   
“Just past 3 am. What brings you to the common room?” Katharine sat on the green velvet armchair closest to the fire, she heard him close his book, placing it on the end table.   
“Couldn’t sleep. You?”   
“O.W.L.S.” Perry responded. Katharine looked over at him, and took notice on just how tired he looked. She gave him a small smile, which he returned.  
“Can I...help you with that?” He asked quietly. When Katharine furrowed her eyebrows, he shyly pointed at her cut. She nodded slowly, and he walked over, sitting on the coffee table across from her.   
“I’m training to be a healer.” He clarified. He took a deep breath, placing his wand lightly on Katharine’s cheek, he mumbled an incoherent incantation, and Katharine could feel the cut begin to sew up. When it was gone, he put his wand away, but didn’t move as quickly.   
“Thank you.” Katharine told him, becoming aware of just how close they were.   
“How’d you get it?” He asked, lips parted, irises blown. Katharine looked away, clearing her throat. He bit his lip, moving back to his seat on the couch.   
“I fell. I should..get back to bed. Thanks again, Perry.” Katharine said, quickly walking up to her dormitory before the interaction could get any weirder.   
Katharine ended up sitting on the windowsill with Socks until she fell asleep with her head against the cold stone. She woke up at seven, to a mermaid, tapping on the glass.  
“You haven’t been sleeping again.” Lupin said to her, after they spent the better half of an hour dueling instead of doing the studying that Katharine desperately needed, but it felt good to release some anger in a safe space.   
“Did you know Cheyenne?” Katharine asked, moving a chair back towards a table. Lupin froze, turning to Katharine.  
“Your mother told you?”   
“Yes.”   
“Please, sit.”   
Lupin motioned to a chair near the desk he was seated on. Katharine sat down, clutching her bag.   
“Cheyenne and I...had a complicated relationship.”   
“In what context?”   
“We were romantically involved when we were still in school, but she went into hiding after.. We lost touch.” Katharine stayed quiet, Lupin sighed, and pulled out his wallet, handing Katharine a small moving picture. The woman, blonde and brightly smiling, was laughing with another red-haired woman.   
“She looks like Violet.” Katharine mumbles, still grasping the picture tightly. Lupin put his wallet back into his robes pocket.  
“You can keep that. You need it more than me.” Katharine put the picture in her pocket, and she felt around and pulled out the picture of the Weasleys at Egypt.   
“Do you believe in prophecies, or...just blindly following your parents?” Lupin took a deep breath.   
“I think, Ms. Silverwood, that it’s time to depart for the night.”   
As the term progressed, Katharine saw less of the twins in the halls, at meals, in class. She knew they were avoiding her, and probably for good reason. One day, Katharine made her way to the owlery, clutching a letter for her mother in one hand, her green scarf wrapped tight around her neck. When she was walking through the entryway, she ran straight into Fred Weasley.   
She stumbled back, and Fred caught her by her forearms, helping her steady.   
“Hello, Fred.” Katharine greeted, eyes downcast, trying to avoid an awkward conversation.   
“Hello. Letter for mum?” Fred pointed to her letter, and Katharine nodded, “Same as I.”   
Despite having already sent his letter, Fred lingered in the owlery as Katharine caroled a school owl and tied the letter gently to it’s leg.   
“Listen, Fred-” Before Katharine could finish, Fred surged forward, kissing Katharine, his cold hands on her neck, stroking her gently. They broke away momentarily, before coming back in to kiss again, Fred holding her waist.   
“Er, hello.” A voice greeted from the entryway. Katharine and Fred jumped apart, looking scandalized. Harry stood there, awkwardly, holding a letter of his own. Before anybody could speak, Katharine quickly left the owlery.   
“Kat, you’re making it snow.” Emilia whispered, biting a piece of toast. Katharine looked up, watching a snowflake fall into her pudding. Across the way, Fred stared at her, poking at his own dinner.   
“What’s gotten you so messed up these days? Secret lover?” Emilia grinned, swiping a dip of Katharine’s pudding.   
“No, no secret lover if you-” Katharine trailed off watching Emilia eye’s trail across until someone tapped her shoulder. She turned, facing Perry the Prefect.   
“Perry. Hello.” Katharine stammered. His prefect badge was shining against his robes, and he looked more nervous than Katharine had ever seen anybody before.   
“Hello, Katharine. I was..um..wondering if you’d like to accompany me to Hogsmeade this upcoming Saturday.” He spoke, his hands telling a different story of his anxiety.   
“Er, sure, Perry.” He smiled, nodded his head to Emilia and walked swiftly away. Katharine turned back to Emilia, mouth gaped.   
“What the hell was that?”   
“I think it was Perry the prefect asking you out on a date.” Katharine smacked her forehead, her elbow slamming onto the table.   
“Fuck! Why’d I say yes! I don’t like Perry!” Katharine whispered, cheeks heating up in embarrassment.   
“Oh, knock off it, drama queen! He could be fun, you never know..” Emilia laughed, hand smacking the table as Katharine’s head drooped towards her pudding, ponytail dipping in.   
That Friday, A crumpled note hit the back of Katharine’s head during the beginning of Defense against the Dark Arts.   
‘Perry the Prefect? Really?’   
Katharine turned slightly, making eye contact with Fred, who looked irritated. Katharine mouthed ‘shove off’ before George or Emilia could catch on. Later on in class, she was hit with another note.   
‘What does he have that I don’t, a shiny badge? I could steal one’   
Katharine crumpled it up again and shoved it in her bag.   
“Who’s throwing notes?” Emilia whispered, knee deep in her essay. Katharine shrugged, turning back to her parchment.   
Spring was approaching quickly. The trees were blooming with bright green leaves, the grass beginning to surge back to its natural state.   
“I’m still not sure about this.” Katharine mumbled. She stood in the courtyard with Emilia, waiting for Perry. Out of nervousness, she pulled at her knit sweater, a dark forest green, biting her lip.   
“Would you stop fidgeting? You’re making me nervous.” Emilia told her, pushing her hands down to her sides, adjusting the two braids that she had braided for Katharine earlier.   
“Oh, I wish I was drunk right now!” Katharine whispered, watching Perry and Orion approach the courtyard, engaged in a conversation. Emilia pushed her lightly, motioning for her to smile.   
The four of them sat silently at a booth in the Three Broomsticks. Katharine’s butter beer, which Perry had ordered for her, sat untouched, as he downed his own.   
Outside, Katharine could see a flash of red hair speed past, and through the door to Zonkos. She picked up her butter beer, sipping it slightly. All of the sudden, Emilia launched her foot into Katharine’s shin, making her yelp in pain.   
“Kat, Perry asked you a question.” Katharine was still rubbing her sore shin, looking dangerously at Emilia. She looked at Perry expectantly, who looked confused.  
“Um.. I was wondering where you got your sweater.”   
“Oh, it was my mothers.”   
“Pretty.” Katharine smiled, turning back to glower at Emilia.   
After an awkward lunch, they left the warm bar to walk about Hogsmeade. Almost immediately, Emilia pulled Orion away, waving goodbye, a sly grin on her face.   
“So, would you like some ice cream?” Perry asked, Katharine agreed and the pair approached the ice cream parlor just as the twins left, clutching their own ice cream cones.   
“Hello, Fred, George.” Perry greeted, a twinkling smile on his face. Katharine stood there, avoiding eye contact with everybody involved. Fred curled his lip in disgust, but George smiled, patting Perry on the shoulder.   
“Good to see you, mate. Hows Prefect duty?” George asked, ignoring Katharine and Fred’s eyes boring into him to stop.   
“It’s going great!” The pair engaged in a short conversation, leaving Fred and Katharine to stand there awkwardly. Once they said their goodbyes, Katharine watched as Fred purposely tripped over George’s foot, launching his strawberry ice cream cone into Perry’s pristine white shirt.   
“Sorry, mate!” Fred shouted, and the two of them ran, snickering as they jogged. It took Katharine almost ten minutes to get most of the ice cream out, the two of them sitting at a small booth in the parlor, wet paper towels beginning to build up in a pile.   
“I wish I knew a charm to get this out.” Katharine mumbled, watching as Perry cracked a smile, trying to hide his laughter.   
“What? What is it?”   
“Well, it’s...I do.” Katharine immediately dropped the paper towel, looking at him in surprise.   
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked, feeling embarrassed as Perry broke out into laughter, taking out his wand.  
“Can you blame me? A pretty girl has offered to get the ice cream out of my shirt. I would never tell her to stop.” Perry aimed his wand towards his shirt, and the droplets of pink disappeared immediately. Katharine’s cheeks were red, but she still smiled at him. They shared a large sundae, telling each other stories from their times at Hogwarts. Katharine had to stumble a large sum of them, since most included her and the twins drunk in the Forbidden Forest, or her and the twins doing pranks on prefects.   
“Your little plan didn’t work.” Katharine said, finding Fred alone in their secluded hallway, doodling fireworks over his potions essay.   
“Yes it did. You’re here.” Katharine pulled her lip in anger, crossing her arms as Fred stood up, leaving his bag abandoned on the floor.   
“I don’t like Perry the prefect. He asked me, I couldn’t just say no.” Katharine mumbled, looking away as Fred approached slowly.   
“Why not?” Fred replied. He was inches away from her face. Katharine looked down the hall to make sure nobody was there, and Fred was pulling her back for a kiss.   
After a few moments, Katharine pushed her wand into his chest, watching her back away, hands up in defense.   
“We need to talk. Not snog.”   
The two of them sat against the wall. The sun was beginning to set as Katharine explained what happened over break.   
“You don’t actually believe that? It’s a fear tactic, Kat.” Katharine sighed, looking down at her twiddling fingers. Sunrays shone onto the wall across from them, reflecting in Fred’s bright eyes.   
“She said when, not if, Fred. That scared the shit out of me. If something does...happen, I can’t risk losing everything. Especially not Violet.” Fred shook his head, like he was trying to forget everything she’d said about the Dark Lord. When he didn’t respond, Katharine shuffled through her bag, pulling out the crinkled newspaper clipping from Egypt, holding it in her hands, showing him.   
His hand gripped her wrist softly, staring down at the moving, happy faces of his large family. He closed his eyes, and nodded.   
“Alright. I’ll leave you alone. But I can’t promise that I’ll ever move on.” Katharine smiled grimly, bowing her head. She felt him kiss the top of her head, his mouth lingering. They walked together in silence, to dinner, their hands entwined.   
Fred did keep his promise. For the rest of their fifth year, the twins left her alone. They didn’t throw crumpled notes at her, ask her to join their pranks, or spill ice cream on Perry’s shirts on their few innocent dates.   
It was incredibly boring.   
“What do you mean you’re leaving?” Katharine yelled, following Lupin about his emptying classroom after defense against the dark arts class.   
“I’ve decided it’s for the best, especially after the events that happened this year. With.. Sirius Black escaping.”   
“I don’t understand.” Lupin grabbed onto her shoulders, forcing her to look at him.   
“You will, in time.”   
The day before the train left for summer break, Katharine found a chocolate bar, with a red bow tied around it, sitting on her bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorty today boys


	6. 1994 - 1/3

“You seem unhappy.” Violet asked.  
She was walking around Katharine’s room without any real point of interest. She brushed her hand against Katharine’s bookshelf, full of gold covers and moving letters. Her new owl, Rutherford, which she’d gotten a few weeks into summer break, sat on a perch by her window. In a neat pile on her desk, were letters from Emilia and a few from Perry. Stashed at the bottom, her letters from the past years from Fred. Katharine was sitting on her bed with Socks, with a book on healing in front of her.  
“What?” She responded, looking at Violet with the best fake surprise she could manage. Violet had grown over the summer, she was almost as tall as Katharine, and with her better posture, could be deceived as being taller. Her hair was braided down her back, blonde having melted into a sort of strawberry blonde. Violet picked up a letter from Perry, but set it back down without reading.  
“I’m your sister. I can tell when you’re unhappy. And you’ve put your rock away.” Violet pointed to Katharine’s bedside table, where the rock Fred had gifted her usually sat, but was now tucked away in her desk. Katharine sighed, shutting her book.  
“Alright. You got me.”  
“What’s happened? Have you had a falling out with Fred?” Violet took a seat on Katharine’s bed, crossing her legs over and leaning in, petting Socks. Katharine looked at her, seeing her bright blue eyes full of innocence and concern. Katharine could remember being fourteen, so seemingly unaware, happy to pretend that nothing had changed in her family. Katharine smiled at her, caressing her cheek.  
“Don’t worry about that. Are you excited for the Quidditch World Cup?”  
The first thing Katharine thought about the Quidditch World Cup was how loud it was. They were almost late to the match itself, because their father had a meeting that ran too long. Katharine’s hair was pulled into a hairstyle that was too tight. Her family stood out among the regularly dressed witches and wizards, making her increasingly self-conscious. Violet had a metal-grip on Katharine, she was never quite comfortable with large crowds. In their private box, Katharine had the first good and exciting night in a very long time. She and Violet spent all night screaming from the front of the box, hands clutched to the railings, wind blowing wildly as the most exciting Quidditch game of the year took place in front of them. By the time Katharine decided it was time to venture out to get snacks, the game was close.  
She left Violet, wanting to relish in both of her hands being free to do as they pleased. As she approached the snack booth, counting her money, a cold hand grabbed her arm in surprise. When she looked up, it was Fred, his face painted in support of the Irish, accompanied by his little sister, who’d grown up since she’d last seen her in front of Flourish and Botts two years prior.  
“Hello, Fred!” Katharine greeted, yelling over the hustle and bustle around them. Ginny raised her eyebrows, looking at her brother, then Katharine.  
“Kat, this is my sister, Ginny.” Fred stammered, Katharine smiled, and held her hand out for Ginny to shake.  
“Well, I’m going to get snacks and find Violet. Enjoy the game.” Katharine excused herself, ducking away from the awkward pair. By the time she made it back to the box, most of her embarrassment was gone.  
After the match, Katharine and Violet didn’t have a chance to catch a breath before their mother was rushing them away from the stadium, pushing through crowds of people.  
“Wait- Isn’t father coming?” Katharine asked, pulling on her mother's hand to get her to stop momentarily. Her mother, out of breath, shook her head slowly, and they were off again.  
“Katharine!” A voice yelled from a crowd, and when she turned, she could see Fred and George, staring as she was pulled along, Violet trailing behind.  
The next morning, after waking up late, there was a soggy newspaper sitting on her windowsill. The headline screamed at her, pictures of deatheaters marching through the cloudy lines of tents, people yelling and running. Katharine found her mother alone in the kitchen, sipping tea and staring through the window. Katharine slammed the newspaper onto the table, still clad in her pajamas.  
“What the fuck is this?”  
“Katharine! Language!”  
“What is it, mum? What is this?” Katharine yelled, pointing at the main headline on the newspaper. Her mother, unphased, took a deep breath.  
“We thought it best you didn’t know, since you’re so...sensitive about the topic.” Katharine, face shaped in horror, crumpled the newspaper, and stormed out of the kitchen.  
The fire was dying out when Katharine’s father returned home the night after the World Cup. He looked tired, his eyes sunken in.  
“Hello, Katharine. Enjoying late night tea, are we?” He greeted, voice low and exhaustion wrung throughout. Katharine gritted her teeth, still seated by the fire, unmoving. The newspaper screamed on the table next to her cup of tea.  
Her father walked over, taking a glance at the newspaper, then at Katharine’s scrunched, angry face. Her wand was gripped in her hand, which was shaking. He breathed out, taking a seat.  
“You know, when your mother told me she was pregnant for the first time, I was ecstatic. I thought we were going to have a good child, like the Malfoy, or your cousins. Instead, you choose to disappoint me at every chance you get. Sometimes I can’t believe they let you into Slytherin, you cowardly, silly-” Katharine stood, shoving her wand under his chin, hand shaking, tears beginning to collect in her eyes.  
“Watch yourself, girl. No magic outside of Hogwarts.” He gritted, but didn’t move to make for his own wand. In fact, he was grinning like a madman.  
“One day, one glorious day, I’m going to be looking down at your dead body as they lower you unceremoniously into the ground.” He only smiled, beginning to laugh, Katharine’s wand still on his neck. Katharine screamed in frustration, pushing her cup of tea, the teapot, and the newspaper onto the floor, watching the teacup smash into pieces.  
“What are you doing?” Violet whispered, coming into Katharine’s room slowly, twenty minutes later. Katharine was crying, furiously packing her suitcase and her trunk. Rutherford was already locked in his cage, Socks was circling the bed, “Kat?”  
Katharine stopped, her shoulders drooping, sniffling as she wiped the tears off her cheeks. She turned to Violet, and rushed to embrace her. She pulled away, wet hands gripping Violet’s cheeks.  
“I promise to never leave you. Do you understand?” Katharine cried, tears dripping onto her pajamas. Violet, wildly concerned and confused, nodded profusely. The two sisters fell asleep in Violet’s bed, and woke up to rain.  
“Why do you look so glum, Kat?” Emilia asks, at the welcome feast on the first day of school. Orion is halfway through his pudding, but raises his eyebrows in question. Katharine gives them a reassuring smile, poking at her dinner, uninterested.  
“I’m alright. How was your summer?”  
The three of them fell into easy conversation, about the summer, about the Triwizard Tournament, until Perry arrived, sitting down beside Katharine. Orion had just been made a prefect, and that seemed to be all he could talk about. Katharine became bored with the conversation quickly, and found herself looking over to the Gryffindor table. Fred was facing away from her, but George was not. He furrowed his eyebrows, head tilted, and pointed Fred in her direction. Katharine quickly looked away, trying to look incredibly engaged in the perfect conversation.  
“Orion’s becoming incredibly boring.” Emilia said, later, as they put on their pajamas. Katharine chuckled.  
“Break up with him.” Katharine told her, watching as Emilia pondered the idea, but ultimately decided against it.  
“So, how was your summer..like, actually?” Emilia asked, sitting up on her bed, facing Katharine. She looked concerned, motioning to the book of healing that Katharine was beginning to open. Katharine shrugged, pulling her curtains shut around her bed.  
On the first week, Katharine found herself scrubbing the prefect bathroom floor in detention. She had gotten into a rather nasty row with the same hufflepuff girl from Runology last year, this time, in front of an unhappy professor. It was late, the humidity of the bathroom beginning to make her hair frizz up. Her History of Magic professor, Polliwog, paced back and forth, pointing out spots she missed. The door opened, and shut, but Katharine didn’t look up, as she was particularly busy with a nasty spill.  
“Mr. Weasley. You’re late.” Polliwog said, stepping over to the door, Katharine looked up, seeing a twin looking back at her with a grim look.  
“Fred, over here.” Polliwog motioned, and Fred joined Katharine to work on the spill, brush in hand. Polliwog glanced at his watch, and jumped.  
“Oh dear. I’m late for a meeting. Don’t move, my replacement should be here any moment..” Polliwog said, leaving the bathroom in a hurry. As soon as the door shut, both Katharine and Fred stopped working.  
“Polliwog gives the worst detentions.” Katharine mumbled, wiping the sweat off her brow with her shirt. Fred sat back on his knees.  
“Did you happen to get my present?” Fred muttered, still looking at the floor.  
“What?”  
“The newspaper. I never found out if you got it.”  
“You..sent the newspaper? Why?”  
“Because I wanted you to see what they did.” Fred still avoided Katharine’s glare, turning his head every time Katharine moved. She placed a finger under his chin, pushing his head up, his eyes still diverted. She sat back, defeated.  
“You think I was involved.” There was no response. Katharine could feel the tears stinging at her eyes. Had she changed so badly that even Fred thought she was evil?  
“I dunno. You left in such a hurry. I don’t want to believe it, but you are a slytherin, after all.” Katharine scoffed at his words, the worst she’s ever heard come out of his mouth, and that was saying a lot.  
“Fuck you, Fred.” Snape burst into the bathroom, and they both immediately returned to scrubbing away the tile.  
The owlery was quiet and peaceful early in the morning. Owls fluttered about, sleeping after long journeys, or beginning to wake up after a nice sleep. Katharine sat on the windowsill, watching Rutherford fly away with a letter for Professor Lupin.  
“Oh, hello.” Katharine turned, seeing Harry in the entryway. He turned his head back and forth, as if he was expecting to see somebody else.  
“Hello, Harry. Don’t worry, no snogging in the owlery this morning.” Katharine told him, giving him a small smile.  
“I-I’m sorry, about that. That day.” Harry stammered, fiddling with a letter in his hand. Katharine smiled again, nodding in understanding, before heading down the stairs again.  
“Mad-eye has lost it.” Violet announced, sitting down beside Katharine in the library that afternoon. She had spent the whole day trying to make the most of the sunday before classes began again for the week. This time, hopefully, with no more rows with the hufflepuff girl.  
“I know that. He almost stepped on Socks the other day.” Katharine mumbled, transcribing a quotation from her book to the parchment. Herbology was never her strong suit, and it wasn’t going to start being so now.  
“Harry’s told me that he tortured poor Neville in class the other day. Stupid old man.” Violet muttered, shoving her own books on the table. Katharine glanced over, a playful smile on her face.  
“Neville, huh?” Violet blushed, looking away. She flipped through her book, labelled advanced potions, ignoring Katharine, who was looking at her playfully from behind her eyelashes.  
“Neville’s just a friend.” Violet whispered, after making sure there was no one around them. Katharine laughed, shaking her head, returning to her herbology essay. Violet’s blush, the way she spoke in Neville’s defense, it all sounded like when Fred was just a friend to Katharine. She had to shake the thought of what happened to herself, happening to Violet.  
Fall was fast approaching, and students were filled to the brim with excitement a week before the Beauxbatons and Durmstrangs were due to arrive. Katharine threw herself into her classes, preparing for her O.W.Ls. She saw the twins occasionally, always laughing and whispering amongst themselves. Katharine had almost expected Fred to apologize, but she soon realized that it was just wishful thinking.  
“Hello, Kit.” George greeted, approaching Katharine, who had her nose stuck in another auror training book, sitting out in the courtyard. It was cold for a saturday in October, George’s nose bright red as he shivered in his place, hands deep in his pockets.  
“Hello, Georgie.” Katharine greeted, moving over on the bench to make room when he motioned to sit. She closed her book, rubbing her gloved hands together for warmth.  
“Fred has sent me.” George explained, watching the tree drop orange leaves by their feet. Katharine scoffed, rolling her eyes.  
“Of course he has.”  
“Well, more like he’s sent me without knowing he has. I’m tired of his constant whining. Here, the prefect bathroom password, meet him there at four, just before the feast, it should be empty, I’ll make up some bullshit to get him there.” George passed her a crumpled piece of paper. She smiled at him, and he pushed her lightly in the shoulder, before getting up.  
George was right, the prefect bathroom was completely empty at four. Despite her inner voice telling her to not give him the satisfaction of going to the bathroom, she did anyway. The clock on the wall ticked away, turning from 3:50 to 4. The door burst open, and Fred rushed in, stopping in his tracks when he spotted Katharine.  
“Kat? Where are the fireworks?” Fred looked disappointed, but became awkward when he realized George had tricked him.  
“Look, Kat-”  
“You’re the one I ever told about my family,” Katharine interrupted, pulling her outer robes off, suddenly warm in the humid bathroom, “I’ve never told anybody, and you trusted me. What changed?”  
Fred looked down, and Katharine knew he didn’t have an answer. Katharine sighed, sitting down on a bench near the lockers, head in her hands. She could feel the bench dip as Fred sat beside her.  
“I was scared. I thought about what you said last year, about losing your family. What happened at the World Cup was...terrifying. And then Ron went missing..” Fred trailed off. Katharine turned her head to him, sitting up to listen.  
“I was overridden with guilt. George had always asked me if it was a good choice to befriend a slytherin with a last name like yours, but I always brushed it off. I didn’t want to live without you.” Fred mumbled, his fingers pushing a loose strand of hair away from Katharine's face.  
“It killed me to make the assumption. But it was the most reasonable explanation to my mind. I wanted to take it back the moment I said it.” Fred looked away, eyes downcast.  
“I don’t blame you. You were scared. I was scared too.” Katharine told him, hands folded on her lap. Fred sat up, looking at Katharine, grabbing her hand to hold.  
“I never did the hang of the whole, moving on, thing.” Fred told her, and Katharine cracked a smile, forehead resting against his shoulder.  
After a few moments of peace, somebody knocked on the locked door, and they both stood up, grabbing their bags. Fred stopped suddenly, holding onto Katharine’s arm, and when she looked up at him, he kissed her like his whole life depended upon that kiss, his arms circling around her waist, pulling her closer.  
Katharine pulled away momentarily, breathing heavily, “Go find another bathroom!” She yelled, waiting for the aggravated groan and descending footsteps. Katharine’s arms circled around Fred’s neck, pulling him down for another kiss, chest heaving as he fumbled with his own tie, pulling it off and throwing it on the ground.  
As they kissed, both of them trying to pull off as many articles of clothing as possible, Katharine’s mind whizzed, wondering how she ever thought ignoring Fred was going to work. Everything and anything made sense when he kissed her.  
Fred was pulling off his shirt when there was a large bang on the door, causing the pair to jump apart, breathing heavily, before fumbling to put their clothes back on.  
“I’m coming in, in three minutes! You better not be naked!” A voice shouted from behind the door as Katharine, lips puffy, struggled to tie her tie. Three minutes later, as both Katharine and Fred were fully dressed, Orion shoved the door open, rushing in. He looked between the two of them, looking like deer caught in headlights, and burst out laughing.  
“Fuck off, Orion.” Katharine mumbled, rushing out of the bathroom with her outer robes in her hands, Fred following behind. They blended into the masses of students walking excitedly to the Great Hall, ready for the feast.  
“New tie, Kat?” Emilia asked as Katharine sat down across from her, a playful smile on her face. Katharine looked down, looking at the red and yellow tie that was tied around her neck. Her eyes widened, looking across the way towards Fred, who had a Slytherin tie draped lazily around his own.  
Quickly, Katharine fumbled to rip it off, hiding it under the table, her face as red as a beet. Emilia kept laughing, having followed Katharine’s gaze to Fred, who just smiled and didn’t hide Katharine’s tie at all.  
Their friends soon forgot all about the tie incident as the excitement of the feast reached a point, and it was time for the Beauxbatons and the Drumstrangs entrance.  
The following day, the twins caught her in between potions and transfiguration.  
“Potions master! First, your tie, and second, do you know how to brew an aging potion?” Katharine glared at Fred, snatching her tie, placing Fred’s in his open palm, “No. Aging potions aren’t taught to sixteen year olds, probably within good reason. Why?”  
They passed a pair of Durmstrang boys, who smiled eerily at Katharine, who recoiled. George, ever the white knight, began to bark at them until the durmstrang boys sprinted out the closest door.  
“We want to enter the tournament.” George explained once he caught up with Fred and Katharine.  
“That’s stupid. You have to be seventeen.”  
“Hence the need for the aging potion, Kit.”  
“I’m not helping with that.” Katharine told them, walking into transfiguration, leaving them in the hallway, frowning.  
“Are we dating?” Fred asked, in the middle of a crowded hallway a week later. Katharine yelped, grabbing his arm and dragging him into a quiet hallway, watching him Fred smile in amusement.  
“If you would be so kind as to keep your voice down, Weasley. And if I thought you could keep a secret, I would say yes, but I really don’t want to risk anything.” Katharine whispered, her hand holding his. Fred reached to hold her face, and kissed her.  
“No worries, Kit. Your dirty little secret is safe with me.”  
Katharine and Emilia were sitting in the library, trying to finish a five page potions essay when the twins, looking about seventy years older, fought their way over. They were slowly de-aging, the gray hairs pushing back into their heads, looking angry.  
“Well, the aging potion didn’t work. It’s Fred’s fault.” George explains, earning a loud slap from Fred.  
“I dunno why you would think it would work. Dumbledore himself drew the age line.” Emilia responds, putting her quill down, pulling George’s beard, watching him slap her hand away and wincing.  
“Yeah, we heard that.” Fred mumbles, rubbing his sore face as his short beard turned red again. He looked over at Katharine, wiggling his eyebrows.  
“What do you say, Kat? Want to tussle with a forty year old?” Katharine grimaced, pushing his face away when he leaned in for a kiss.  
“Maybe in twenty years.” Fred sulked, the rest of his beard receding finally. He smiled, feeling his fresh and no-beard face.  
“What about now?” Katharine pondered for a few moments, looking at her four out of five pages of a potions essay.  
“Sure.” She shoved her belongings into her bag, shrugging at a gaping Emilia, leaving with Fred.  
“Hey!” Emilia called out as Katharine left, but Katharine just tuned her out.  
“What’s got you so stoic this evening?” Fred asks, flicking the lightbulb on in the broom closet they found in a secluded part of the castle. Katharine sat on a jutted shelf, Fred standing between her legs, pushing her hands through his hair.  
“I’m just thinking about what Dumbledore said. The whole...death thing. Why would you want to sign up for that?” Katharine asked, thumbs caressing his cheek lightly. He smiled, pulling her by her sweater in for a light kiss.  
“Eternal glory, of course.” Fred beams, making Katharine roll her eyes, sitting back on the uncomfortable shelf.  
“What? Don’t you want to be remembered for anything extraordinary?” Katharine chuckled at his words. He looked perfectly serious, but all Katharine wanted to be remembered for was making it to twenty years old.  
“I think we have different definitions of extraordinary,” Fred looked away, finally realizing what he had said, “I would like to be remembered for being a good Slytherin. The Good One. How does that sound?”  
Katharine was smiling, joking, but Fred seemed to take her words seriously. The closet became claustrophobic when he didn’t respond.  
“Well, if I can’t win the Triwizard Tournament, I want to be known for the best joke shop this side of the ocean.”  
“Which ocean?”  
“I’ll decide that later.”  
The great hall when Harry’s name was echoed throughout was silent. They all watched in shock, as Harry was ushered away. Immediately, after Dumbledore’s words of reassurance, the room erupted in speculation.  
“What the fuck?” Katharine said, mouth still open in shock. She looked over at Emilia, who was wide-eyed and silent.  
“Isn’t he fourteen? Same as Violet?” Emilia asks finally, trying to grasp around the news. Katharine just nods, and shrugs. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the twins following Ron out of the great hall.  
Two weeks had passed, and the school was still buzzing from Harry’s name coming out of the Goblet of Fire. Katharine decided that she couldn’t care less, obviously earlier than other students.  
“Your presence is requested in Professor Dumbledore’s office, Ms. Silverwood.” Snape had waltzed into the common room, silencing everybody, and had stopped in front of Katharine and Emilia as they lazed in front of the fire, studying for transfiguration. Slowly, Katharine shut her book, and walked out of the common room, a thousand Slytherin eyes following her as she went.  
As Katharine walked into Dumbledore’s office, she became increasingly aware that she was interrupting something. As she got closer, she saw Dumbledore engaged in a heated argument with a small redheaded woman, who was facing away from Katharine.  
“He’s just a boy, Albus-” Dumbledore made eye contact with Katharine, who became sheepish quickly, pulling at her sweater sleeves. The woman turned around, her features kind, smiling warmly at Katharine.  
“Hello, you asked to see me, Professor Dumbledore?” Katharine greeted, her voice small and frigid.  
“Yes, Ms. Silverwood, just a moment. Mrs. Weasley-” The woman ignored what Dumbledore said, coming around his desk, grasping at Katharine’s shoulders, a bright smile on her face.  
“Oh, you must be Katharine! I would know who you were anywhere, from the way the boys speak of you and the fact that you look exactly like-”  
“Mrs. Weasley, I do believe it’s time for you to go.” Dumbledore said assertively, standing behind his desk, a stoic expression on his face. Mrs. Weasley smiled, brushing down Katharine’s sweater, and turned to the fireplace.  
“Wait, who do I look like?” Katharine heard herself say, her hand immediately coming to her mouth. Mrs. Weasley turned, her warm smile still comfortably on her face.  
“Imogene, dear. Your mother.” Katharine nodded, watching Mrs. Weasley disappear through floo powder.  
“Ms. Silverwood, I’ve asked you here to tell you some news that I’ve just received.” Dumbledore motioned for Katharine to sit at the desk. A fresh letter sat on his desk, the Ministry stamp on the top. “I’ve just learned that your father is set to come to Hogwarts on November the 22nd on behalf of the Ministry with Barty Crouch. He will be joining us for each task, as there are three.” Katharine could feel her whole body go cold at his words. The idea of Katharine’s father being at Hogwarts, the only place she ever felt really happy, felt like a thousand knives to the eyes.  
“I see.” Katharine nodded slowly, eyes glazed over. She could hear Dumbledore speaking, but all she could do was nod until he said goodbye.  
“Have you told your mum about me?” Katharine joined the twins out in the courtyard the following day. She was smiling, green scarf wrapped tightly around her neck to protect from the biting November weather.  
“What? No.” Fred told her, looking away, back to a box of what seemed to be sweets. George put down his quill, having been writing something in a small notebook.  
“I have. ‘Freddies in love with a Slytherin, mum! Sic the garden gnomes on him-” George was cut short by Fred shoving him, making him fall back onto the ground, legs flailing on the bench. As George lay there, still trying to get up, the three of them exploded in laughter, before Fred and Katharine helped him up.  
“Alright, I’ll admit that I may have sent a letter or two.”  
“Or seven.”  
Katharine smiled, sitting between the twins, picking up the box of merchandise and placing it in her lap. None of the packages had names, but hand-written notes pasted to them. She picked up the one that said Puking Pastilles.  
“You’re not mad, are you?” Fred asked, looking at her nervously, as George went back to writing in his notebook, moving items around in the box.  
“No, Freddie, I think it’s cute.” Fred grinned, leaning in before stopping short, confusion meeting his face.  
“Wait, how did you come about this question?”  
“I met her. In Dumbledore’s office. She said I looked like my mum.” Katharine explained, the twins looked at each other knowingly.  
“Harry.” They said in unison.  
“Why were you in Dumbledore’s office?” George asks, still looking at his notebook, scribbling.  
“He called me to tell me that my father is coming to the tasks for the Ministry.” Katharine told them. They sat in silence, nobody knowing what to say after that. Perry the prefect, whom Katharine had been avoiding for two months, approached the three of them. His prefect badge shined on his green robes, his silver scarf loose around his neck.  
“Hello, Katharine. Boys.” Fred scowled at him, earning a jab from Katharine. She smiled, awkwardly, looking at both of the twins, who had blank, threatening looks on their faces.  
“Hello, Perry. Nice weather, huh?” She said, face scrunched in panic as Perry shifted in front of them, obviously sensing that he was interrupting something.  
“It’s..cold. So Katharine, I was wondering…”  
“She’s not interested.” Fred said, barely flinching at the loud and hard slap that George gave him with the notebook. Katharine stared at him, eyes wide with shock.  
“Sorry, Perry. He’s on his period. You were saying?” Katharine said after a long moment of silence. Perry bit his lip, looking at Fred, and then back at Katharine.  
“Uh..Never mind. I’ll see you around, Kat.” Perry told her, before running off. Both George and Katharine looked at Fred like he had just killed a bird. Fred shrugged, still grimacing angrily.  
“I don’t like him. Or his stupid prefect badge.” George laughed, shaking his head.  
“You’ve got problems, mate.”  
Emilia and Katharine stared hard at their reflections in the mirror on November 21st, three days before the first task. Katharine was holding a pair of scissors. Her long, black hair was down, reaching her elbows.  
“Are you sure about this? Imogene will lose it.” Emilia asked, earning a scowl from Katharine. Katharine took a deep breath, before lifting her scissors and hair, and cutting.  
“You cut your hair?” Violet asked the following day, as they met near the entrance of the great hall. Violet was shocked, reaching out to touch Katharine’s shoulder length hair, looking at the green headband she’d put in to match.  
“Yes. Because I wanted to.” Katharine told her, and left for breakfast, her stomach growling. She was working on a piece of toast when Rutherford flew in, dropping a letter on Katharine’s head. He never did manage to figure out his aim correctly. Katharine fed him a bit of toast after he nibbled on her fingers, and watched him fly away, still holding the letter.

Katharine,

  
Since I saw you in Dumbledore’s office, I’ve not been able to shake your face. You remind me so very much of your mother, right down to the sadness in your young features. We were good friends in school, both prefects. Please, do say hello for me when you have the chance.

Upon asking about you to George, Fred has never been much of a writer, I’ve learned that you have a hufflepuff sister. This tidbit made me laugh, thinking of the shenanigans your mother and aunt used to get into when we were at Hogwarts.

I’ve attached a few pictures I found deep in a box, please enjoy. Please stay safe this year, dear.

Best Regards,

Molly Weasley

Under the letter, were four or five moving pictures. They ranged ages, but Katharine could see what Mrs. Weasley saw, as her mother looked exactly the same in a picture of her and Cheyenne, laughing by a willow tree, clad in their school uniforms. Another was Cheyenne and the same redheaded woman from Lupin’s picture. Cheyenne was holding a baby, who smiled from under bright red hair. On the back, it said ‘Cheyenne and Baby Bill.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> george george george george


	7. 1994 - 2/3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic has come straight from my fuzzy depression brain and i just started on the fourth book for the first time in ten years so pls dont hate me bc of plot issues

“You’re lucky your mother isn’t here.” Katharine’s father approached her after an impromptu feast the night before the first task. Katharine had spent most of it avoiding her father's eye as he sat beside Snape, eyeing her suspiciously. Whenever she looked over at the Gryffindor table, the twins would give her a reassuring sideways smile, reminiscent of their younger brother in the hallways. Harry, who sat a little ways from them, looked green and didn’t touch his food.   
Katharine’s father pulled at a rather short strand of Katharine’s hair, towering over her, clad in deep green robes, his fanciest that he owned. Katharine grimaced, pushing his hand away, straightening down her short hair, adjusting the clips on either side.   
“I did it more to upset you rather than her.” Katharine told him, scowling, pulling Violet away with her as she approached to say hello.   
“What’s got you so upset?” Violet asked, dumbfounded as she was pulled by her robes through crowds of excited students and towards the main staircase.   
“Sorry. Father puts me on edge.” Katharine mumbles, letting go of Violet’s robes finally. She saw Emilia and her freshly dyed purple hair just ahead.  
“You shouldn’t let him bother you so. It’s why he teases you.” Katharine chuckles at Violet’s words, whose face is scrunched in confusion. When Katharine didn’t answer, Violet shook her head and headed towards the Hufflepuff commons. The Slytherin common room was jam-packed when Emilia and Katharine finally found their way through crowds. The older students, drunk off fire whiskey and a particularly old looking bottle of elf wine, were placing bets on who would die tomorrow if it came to that. Even Orion, despite being a prefect, was hurling into a green depression glass vase in the corner. Emilia whimpered with embarrassment, rushed over.   
“A goddamn mess, I’d say.” Perry had walked up behind Katharine without her even realizing, as she accepted a small cup of wine from a boy in her history of magic class. Katharine turned to him, and shrugged.  
“Free wine.” She said, voice loud so it could be heard over the music and loud talking. Perry followed her as she sat down in a secluded corner, where Emilia was forcing Orion to drink water.   
“So… You and George?” Perry said after Katharine stopped teasing Orion for vomiting and was told to go away. She blushed, a playful smile fading from her face immediately.   
“Excuse me?” She said, her cup of wine beginning to slip in her sweaty hand. Before Perry could answer, he watched Katharine down the entire cup out of pure panic.   
“Ah, Fred then.” Perry realized, watching as Katharine grimaced, and looked away. A pink flush from the wine was beginning to spread all over her cheeks.   
“I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you and-”   
“Katharine, it’s fine. We went on three dates. I feel stupid for not seeing it. The twins pranked me relentlessly for weeks after the Hogsmeade fiasco. I had to throw out a sweater after one of my quills exploded and I got ink everywhere.” Despite the pitiful stories, Perry was smiling, and Katharine knew that he meant no harm in his words. They spent about an hour playing wizard chess, Katharine drinking a steady supply of fire whiskey, teasing Emilia as she babysat a drunk and whining Orion.   
The next day, Katharine glared at the bright skies as the whole school made their way to the Quidditch fields, which was decorated for the tournament specially. Orion groaned every step he took, still looking green. Emilia had an arm linked with him, looking angry as she pulled him down with her.   
“Hello, wench!” George greeted loudly as Katharine separated accidentally from Emilia and Orion. She grimaced, covered her eyes as they smiled brightly.   
“Too much to drink?” Fred asked, watching Katharine nod slowly. They stood there as students flowed into the entrance. Violet appeared, pulling Katharine’s arm away, slapping her hand as she went to reach for Fred.   
“Violet, I am very hungover.” Katharine complained, still pissed that she was forced away from the twins, who had been conveniently standing in the way of the sun.   
“I just saved your life. Father was coming down the hill.” Violet whispered, and Katharine looked over her shoulder, seeing her father, behind Barty Crouch and Dumbledore, standing poignantly by the champion tent.   
“Thanks.” Katharine responded, lip drawn in sadness as she watched the twins walk towards the Gryffindor area. Instead of joining Emilia, who was miserable and snappy today, Katharine decided to sit with Violet and Luna Lovegood in between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw area.   
As they took their seats, feeding off the excitement that surrounded them, Violet joined hands with Katharine, her cold hands clad in bright yellow gloves.   
“When we’re older, we should buy a cottage by the beach, fill it with flowers and plants. Luna, you can come live with us!” Violet explained, leaning over to give Luna a bright smile, who reciprocated.   
“That sounds lovely! I’m not a very good cook though. What would we eat?” Luna questioned. Katharine watched their conversation lovingly. It had been so long that she’d had a light-hearted conversation with her sister. Most of Katharine’s days were filled with schoolwork, Emilia complaining about Orion, the twins including her in pranks, and just Fred in secret hallways.   
“Oh, Katharine can cook! She makes the best grilled cheese, don’t you, Katharine?” Violet said, and the two fourth years turned to her expectantly. She nodded, interrupted by shouts as Cedric’s dragon is released.   
Throughout the tournament, Katharine couldn’t help but think about what Violet said about the cottage. She’d, of course, dreamt of getting away from her parents, living alone, relishing in silence. Why hadn’t she ever asked Violet what she wanted in the future?   
After the tournament, the Slytherin commons were stoic and quiet all night. Katharine, head still aching from the night before, relished in the silence. She wished she would have joined the Hufflepuffs in their partying, or the Gryffindors, but she was afraid she would get jumped by angry Slytherins after she got back.   
“I’m going to break up with him.” Emilia said as she took her turn in wizards chess, watching her knight get demolished. Katharine groaned.   
“You say that every week, Emilia! Do you want me to do it? Because I will.” Emilia scowled, and motioned for Katharine to take her turn. She didn’t say anymore, obviously having scrapped the idea.   
“What do you want to do in the future?” Katharine asked as they cleaned up the board, standing up to head upstairs to bed. It was nearing midnight. Emilia turned to her, eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.   
“Well, I don’t know. Perhaps live in London, with a boy who isn’t stupid,” Emilia rolled her eyes at her own words, following Katharine up the staircase, “I would like to be a writer. Could you imagine? Me writing for the Daily Prophet? It would be a dream.” The two of them stripped into their pajamas. Emilia was still deep in thought as she sat down on her bed.   
“A new Rita Skeeter, you hope?” Katharine joked, watching Emilia scrunch her face at her.   
“I’d have a black cat, like socks. Three kids, as long as they don’t act like we do.” Both Emilia and Katharine burst into laughter. One of the girls already asleep shushed them.   
“What about you?” Emilia whispered, as they clambered under the covers and settled into sleep. Katharine thought, for a moment, not replying. She had two versions of a future. Living in a cottage on the beach with Violet, submitting to the Dark Lord, or being with Fred, being an Auror, helping with their joke shop, raising children and being happy.   
“I don’t know. Haven’t gotten around to it.”   
The Yule Ball was fast approaching, December settling in at Hogwarts. The grounds were snowy white, Christmas trees dotted the corridors, the ghosts sang Christmas carols softly in between classes.   
Snape had been in charge of teaching them how to dance. They sat in the empty classroom, the air stifling and warm, boys on one side and girls on the other. Katharine had made the mistake of sniggering at the wrong time, and Snape turned, robes bellowing behind him, towards her.   
“Perhaps Miss Silverwood would like to demonstrate with...You, Mr. Malfoy. I’m sure you’ve both been well...trained.” Snape was right; her mother had taught her how to dance when she was a child, but it didn’t make dancing with such a stuck up, rude, foul-mouthed fourth year as Draco Malfoy any easier. Katharine’s feet dragged as she got closer and closer to the center of the room. Orion winked at her as she glowered.   
Snape, fed up with her speed, pulled by her arm, and soon, she was dancing with Malfoy. They didn’t make eye contact the whole time- they didn’t have to, they both knew how to dance- listening to the music and cheeks flushing red. Katharine could see Emilia shaking with laughter in the corner.   
As soon as it had started, it was over, and Emilia practically ran from Draco, who did the same. Everybody was getting up to dance, so Katharine found Perry who looked at her with a friendly, yet playful smile.   
“That was just beautiful, Kat. you two have quite the connection.” he joked, laughing when Katharine punched him in the shoulder.  
They danced for twenty minutes before they were dismissed for dinner. Katharine spotted the twins ahead, and ran up to meet them.   
“You’ll never believed what just happened!” The twins spoke in unison once they saw Katharine approach. Next to them, Harry was laughing, pulling a red faced Ron along with them.   
“Ron had to dance with Mcgonagall.” Harry laughed, watching as Katharine bit her lip, grimacing in embarrassment for him.   
“No worries, Ron, at least you didn’t have to dance with Malfoy.” Katharine told them, her face becoming redder by the second. The three of them gasped, and Ron groaned.   
“Doesn’t make me feel any better! Mines ten thousand times worse!” Harry and Ron split off, leaving the twins and Katharine to walk to dinner together.   
“I’ll have to threaten him later. I just know he’d critique the way I danced if he could.”   
“About the Yule Ball-” Fred started, but was cut off when Emilia dragged Katharine away violently once they reached the great hall.   
“Um...Yes?” Katharine rubbed her sore arm, watching as Emilia paced back and forth, breathing heavily.   
“I may have broken up with Orion last night.”   
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Katharine asked, unsurprised by Emilia’s news. She sat down, reaching for some pumpkin juice.   
“Because I was busy hooking up with Perry.” Katharine choked on her juice, grabbing a napkin to dab at her chin, looking up at Emilia, who looked green.   
“Perry? As in Perry the prefect? The guy I just danced with for twenty minutes?” Emilia grimaced, and nodded. Much to her surprise, Katharine burst into laughter.   
“Oh, that’s funny.” Katharine said, watching as Emilia sat down finally, scowling.   
“So you’re not mad?”   
“Why would I be mad? Have you seen Fred?” 

“I’m beginning to think you don’t want to go to the ball with me.” Katharine told Fred two weeks later. The Yule Ball was almost upon them, and Fred hadn’t even mentioned it. Katharine had tried to give him hints, as they hung out almost every day they didn’t have classes. Now, they sat in the courtyard, wrapped tight in heavy robes and scarves. George was serving detention, and Fred had had a picture developed by Colin Creevy that he wanted to show Katharine. Her lips were beginning to get cold, her nose redder than his hair.   
“Well, I- I do. I just didn’t know how to ask.” Katharine sat back in shock, looking at him with confusion. The picture of George and Katharine, laughed loudly.   
“Are you kidding me? Fred Weasley, king of jokes, doesn’t know how to ask a girl to the ball?” Fred scowled, watching Katharine smile at him, adjusting her green hat on her head as it began to slip.   
“Fine. Dear Lady Katharine, would you do me the honor of accompanying me on December 25th to the Yule Ball?” Katharine laughed, slipping her hand into the one Fred outstretched and bowed her head.   
“Do you have a dress?” He asked, pulling her closer, shivering under his robes. Katharine groaned, just thinking about the dress.  
“Yes, and it’s the most ghastly thing! All yellow, with bright sparkles all over! When my mum said she had a dress for me, I didn’t expect her to give a bee costume! Emilia said she could fix it, but I’m not hopeful.” Katharine complained, shoving her tight face into her scarf, leaning back into Fred.   
“And your father?”   
“Hm?” Katharine could barely hear him between her hat and scarf, tucked away on his shoulder, eyes closed.   
“Is your father going to attend the ball?” She sat up, hearing what he was saying.   
“Oh, no he isn’t. Mother said they’re going to France for the holiday,” Katharine reassured him when he gave her an uneasy smile, “Freddie, everything will be fine.”   
“Snowball fight?” George and Lee Jordan ran towards them, fresh out of detention. They barely stopped to get Katharine and Fred, who were already hot on their heels. 

“And you are sure this will make him crush on me?” A rather young Beauxbaton asked Katharine, who was holding a small box of Weasley products labelled “HOMEWORK” on the outside. The young girl held up a puking pastille, looking at it sideways.   
“Um, you could say that. Ten knuts!”   
That night, Katharine dropped a small, heavy leather bag near George’s pudding, along with the empty box. She stood there, watching the twins and Lee Jordan all look at the items in shock.   
“Impossible! You were at it for no less than three hours!” George said, opening the bag, but ultimately closed it as Ron began to look over.   
“Nothing a little fibbing can’t do.” Katharine smiled, and they all turned when a Hufflepuff boy ran away, holding his mouth, the same Beauxbaton girl from earlier, following him and smiling appreciatively at Katharine.   
“The key is to capitalize on young girls' insecurities and vulnerability. Nicely.” Katharine told them, before walking to the Slytherin table, her pockets jingling with her cut.   
The following day, Katharine was telling a round of Slytherin first years about the prototype for Skiving Snack boxes when Rutherford dropped a few letters directly on her head. Once the first years dispersed and Katharine's pockets were a little heavier, she looked at the letters.   
On top of the pile, Katharine quickly recognized her own handwriting, and realized that Lupin had returned her own letter. She ripped it open, a little angry, flipping the pages of teenage angst over and over again, until she saw something written on the back of the last page, in tiny letters. It was an address. 12 Grimmauld Place.   
Katharine scrunched her face in confusion, but ripped the address off carefully, and shoved it in her free pocket that wasn’t filled with Weasley products or money. The next letter was from her mother, and was shaking slightly. She gulped, and carefully tore it open, but was happy to find out it wasn’t the Howler she was expecting. 

Katharine Sabina Silverwood,   
Imagine my disappointment when I’m glum from the knowledge that my two beloved daughters won’t be visiting for Christmas, just for your father to tell me that you’ve cut your hair!   
You may think it’s no big deal, but how will you ever raise your potential in this world with hair that’s been cut badly in a Hogwarts bathroom? Do you have any idea how long it has taken for your hair to grow to that length? SIXTEEN YEARS! 

The letter angrily shook and exploded, pieces of paper falling into her oatmeal. Emilia arrived, eyes puffy from sleep. Katharine sighed, and began to painstakingly pick up each piece of paper after she saw the glower from Snape as he passed.  
“Imogene’s not happy, I suppose?” Emilia jokes, taking a large gulp of tea as Katharine scowled at her, rubbing her eyes after disposing of the letter.   
“Any progress with my dress?” Katharine changed the subject, picking up her spoon to finally enjoy her oatmeal, looking at Emilia expectantly.   
“I stayed up far too long last night fussing over it, but I think it’s done.” Emilia told her, feeding Rutherford some toast as he sat impatiently on the table.   
“Really? Oh, Emilia, you’re the best!” After breakfast, the two girls raced back to Slytherin commons. Being Sunday, many portraits groaned as they woke them with their chatters, or Katharine’s clinking coins. Hanging in the magicked closet in their dorm, was Katharine’s dress. Emilia had cut the top to a princess cut, and the yellow fabric draped towards the ground, enchanted daisies glimmering around the edges. A small headpiece hung from the hanger. Katharine gasped, Emilia had managed to take a particularly ugly, yellowed dress and transform it. Katharine wanted to kick herself for not paying more attention in charms like Emilia had.   
“Emilia, it’s beautiful!” Katharine said, reaching to touch the velvety fabric, the daisies glimmering when she moved it.   
“Oh thank Merlin. I was completely convinced you’d hate it.”   
“Are you kidding? It’s beautiful!”   
When they got over the excitement of dresses, hairstyles, and makeup, Emilia agreed to help Katharine spend their Sunday distributing Weasley contraband in the Slytherin commons, acting as a lookout for her.   
“You know, I knew you were strange, but I didn’t take you for a blood traitor.” Katharine was convincing a first year to look into her box of treats when Draco approached, Emilia trailing behind apologetically. Katharine shrugged at her, shutting the box.   
“Blood traitor? I didn’t know your small vocabulary included those words. I’m proud, Draco.” He huffed at her rebuttal, taking a step forward indignantly.   
“Why are you wasting your time with those stupid Weasleys? Don’t tell me you’ve become one of their little groupies like that mud blood Granger..” Draco had three wands at his throat almost instantly. Perry, who had overheard the conversation, was beside Emilia, who looked equally angry at Draco. Draco chuckled nervously, his chin lifting as Katharine forced her wand deeper at the base of his throat.   
“You know, I think you just made a big mistake. Perry?” Katharine shot her eyes over to Perry, who was shooting daggers at Crabbe and Goyle, who looked helpless behind him.   
“I’d have to agree. Insulting a sixth year and insulting a muggle born who can’t defend herself are both highly dangerous. Wouldn’t you agree, Emilia?” Emilia looked at Perry, and grinned at him. A crowd was beginning to form around them, people whispering excitedly. They looked like they were all waiting for the day Draco insulted somebody older than him and got what he deserved.   
“If you attack me, my father will have you kicked out of the school.” Draco mumbled, sweating beginning to drip on his chin as the three of them didn’t falter. Perry laughed, his wand shaking against the back of Draco’s neck.   
“I'd like to see you try it, Malfoy. I’ll tell your mum of what you’ve been saying and you’ll be spending all your summers until you’re fifty five locked in the attic.” Katharine threatened, and put down her wand. Draco brushed his robes and scoffed at Katharine's words, and promptly ran off.   
“Merlin, I fucking hate that kid.” Perry mumbled, joining Katharine and Emilia as they sat down by the fire, reaching into Katharine’s box.   
“You have no idea. I’ve wanted to do that since he was born.” Katharine replied, opening a new box of exploding snappers.   
“What is all this?” Katharine grinned at Perry, and opened a prototype skiving snack box for him.   
“It’s prototypes and tricks made by the twins. I’ve been helping them sell to Slytherins since they wouldn’t risk it down here.”   
“Smart.”   
After explaining puking pastilles to Perry, the three of them sat back, enjoying the fire in silence. Katharine began to think about how she had promised to meet Fred at two, and looked at her watch.   
“Who’re you going to the ball with, Perry?” Emilia immediately flushed, moving away from Perry as Katharine stood up, wrapping her heavy cloak over her shoulders.   
“Uh, well..” Katharine looked at him expectantly as he slowly looked over to Emilia. Suddenly, she put two and two together.   
“Oh! Emilia! That’s exciting! I’ll see you lovebirds later.” Katharine said, winking at Emilia as she buried her face in her hands.   
Katharine was walking towards the Gyffindor common room when Violet, a blur of blonde, pulled her violently towards a secluded corner, looking pink and panicked.   
“Something the matter?” Katharine asked, grinning at Violet.   
“I’m hiding from Neville.”   
“Why?” Violet groaned, shaking her head as she buried it in her hands. Neville, looking nervous, passed by their corner without even looking towards them. Behind him, the twins slid behind Katharine.   
“Are we discussing the murderous act of Violet rejecting poor Neville?” Katharine gasped, smacking Violet in the arm, watching her go bright red.   
“I didn’t reject him! I just...ran away.” George sniggered behind Katharine, who had to hide her own laughter.   
“I have just the thing..” Fred muttered, digging in his pockets, but Katharine shook her head, and pulled Violet out of the corner.   
“Oi, Neville! Yes, over here! Violet would be delighted to go to the ball with you. Goodbye now.” Violet stared at Katharine as she walked away, leaving the awkward pair alone.   
“I would’ve just pushed her into a crowd and let her fend for herself.” George told her, and Katharine scowled, pulling a knit hat on her head as they walked outside.   
“Ginny and Violet are two wildly different people, Mr. Weasley.” Katharine said, smiling at a group of Beauxbatons who were giggling among themselves.   
The three of them spent a few golden hours behind a large willow tree that wouldn’t kill them, passing a bottle of fire whiskey between them, which helped them from freezing to death. Soon, they got to the topic of the Yule Ball, of Ron’s embarrassing interaction with Fleur, and dancing.   
“You do...know how to dance, right?” Katharine asked Fred, who avoided her eyes. George burst into laughter.   
“He’s got two left feet!” He sputtered, watching Fred go bright red. Katharine punched him lightly in the shoulder, and grabbed Fred’s hand, making him stand. Her limbs were stiff from sitting so long outside.   
“Alright, we’ll do it now. Hold my waist, yeah, and then my hand..” George was still giggling over his fire whiskey, humming a tune as Katharine led Fred through simple steps.   
“Fred, don’t look down, let me lead! Ow!” Fred had shot his head up, hitting Katharine’s in the process.  
“Sorry, darling, George is right- Oh.” Fred smiled as they found a rhythm, staring at Katharine as she led them around in a circle, grinning at him.   
“I can’t believe it, I thought for sure you would’ve left the ball with two broken feet!” George said, setting down the whiskey to watch Fred and Katharine glide around in the snow.   
“There. Now don’t forget this in a week!” Katharine warned, tripping as she went to sit back down.   
“No promises.”   
They walked back towards the castle as it was nearing four. Nobody bothered them about their red cheeks or staggered walking, because Sunday meant anything flies. Katharine and Fred ended up alone, sitting in the library, watching Neville and Violet study from a few rows away. A few Beauxbaton boys passed them, greeting Katharine with a few french words Fred didn’t know.   
“My parents almost sent me to Beauxbaton, but I threw such a fit that I broke three windows. So here I am,” Katharine explained, “I did learn french though, and I was excited to use it when they arrived, so now they all think I’m special.”   
Fred laughed, shaking his head as Katharine began reciting a french song about a dragon and a princess.   
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me you were immortal, you know. I just know you’ve been around for four hundred years.” Fred told her, ducking behind a heavy book when Violet turned around towards them.   
“Hm, I could never manage a life elixir carefully enough.” Katharine told him, lazily flipping the pages of a potions book.   
Katharine and Fred continued their conversation lowly, not even noticing when Neville pointed them out, and when Violet left the library in a huff, pulling Neville along behind her.   
The week before the Yule Ball couldn’t have moved any slower. Katharine had three exams, History of magic, transfiguration, and potions. Despite Fred interrupting her study sessions to practice dancing, the exams, in Katharine’s opinion, went well, because her confidence always filled up the space where her smarts failed.   
On Christmas morning, Katharine was woken up by Socks licking her face. Emilia was already sitting up on her bed, gazing down at the presents at the foot of her bed, a bright smile on her face when she saw Katharine awake.   
“Happy Christmas, Kat!” A few girls mumbled from their beds, unwilling to wake up yet. Katharine rubbed her eyes, accepting the piece of chocolate Emilia offered her. They traded presents first, Emilia had gotten Katharine a bewitched scarf (“It keeps your hair from getting frizzy!”) and Katharine handed Emilia her present, which was a new quill, a charming eagle feather, and a brand new diary, a deep velvet red, with an E on the front. Katharine had spent the better half of six years watching Emilia fill notebook upon notebook with her thoughts, getting sad when they fill up.   
“Once you’re done, you just magic the pages out like so,” Katharine told her the charm, “And you can put new paper in!”   
By the foot of Katharine’s bed, were a few packages. Her mother had sent her a new pair of robes for spring, which were bright green, with small yellow flowers painted on the bottom. They looked old, and when Katharine glanced at the letter, it read that she had pulled it out of an old box of Cheyenne’s things, and cleaned it up.   
George had gifted her a few filibuster fireworks, which were smoking in the box when she ripped it open. Quickly, she shoved it deep in her trunk, watching them calm down. George’s letter was brief, thanking her for the toffee(He had obviously forgotten to send it, and written it early in the morning).   
Socks purred against Cheyenne’s cloak as Katharine picked up a small newspaper wrapped package. When she opened it, a pair of blue hand-knitted mittens lay beside a picture of Fred, George, and Katharine at age 13, that she’d never seen before. She picked up the letter beneath the items. 

Katharine,   
Happy Christmas, dear!   
Thank you for your lovely letter, I’m sorry I haven’t been able to write back, it’s been pretty hectic with everything that’s been going on, that is.   
I hope you don’t mind too badly, but Fred had disclosed some panicked information to me after the Quidditch cup before they left for Hogwarts. He’s made me promise not to say anything, but i can’t help but imagine how afraid you must be. No much older than Fred and George! Scares me just to think about. I’m sorry to mention it on Christmas, but I wanted to make sure you responded before I mentioned it.   
Any niece of Cheyenne is welcome at the Burrow anytime.   
I do hope you enjoy the mittens, and I’ve been looking to get this picture to stop scaring me every time I pass it in the living room for three years. It’ll be happier with you.   
Love,   
Molly Weasley 

As if on cue, the George in the picture suddenly screamed, making Katharine in the picture yell in return, before falling off the tree she was balancing on. The twins both laughed wholeheartedly.   
Katharine thought about Mrs. Weasley said in the letter, about Fred being so scared that he told his mum. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, because it was her fault entirely that he was involved in the happenings of Katharine’s family background.   
“What’s that? It’s fallen under your bed.” Emilia pointed out a small box, underneath Katharine’s bed. The other girls in their dormitory were beginning to wake up, admiring their own presents.   
The small box was wrapped in newspaper, and a letter weighed it down. 

Kit,   
I thought since we’re now older, and not any less mature or grown up, I’d get you something that wasn’t a rock or a piece of chocolate. Please don’t despise me, I know you’re fond of your rocks.   
You know I have trouble with the romantics, but I keep seeing you in my dreams. You look happier than I’ve ever seen you, and that’s saying a lot, since you always have that dreamy smile on your face when I look at you.   
Don’t kill me when you see the mothball infested suit I pull out tonight,   
Your loverboy,   
Fred Weasley   
P.s. how does that french dragon song go again? 

Enclosed in the small box, was a necklace. To Katharine’s surprise, it was a dragon, wrapped around a small princess. It glimmered in the candlelight, yellow dotted on the princesses small dress. She smiled, and immediately put it on.   
The castle was exceptionally warm that night as Emilia, Katharine, and Perry, made their way up from the dungeons to the Great Hall. Excitement milled around them like fairies, girls in dresses and boys in fancy robes, adorned in bowties. Emilia had stopped once or twice to poke at Perry’s own bowtie, her purple dress complimented her sparkling deep purple hair, which was pulled up in an intricate braid-bun.   
“Okay, I’m going to go find Fred.” Katharine huffed after the third time Emilia faltered, obviously nervous. Katharine smiled sympathetically at Perry, who was pushing Emilia’s hands away gently, and set off up the staircase.   
“Fancy meeting you here.” George greeted when Katharine was bent over enchanting her daisies, which were falling off her dress, and dying slowly on the steps. He was hand in hand with Angelina Johnson, who looked nervous albeit excited.   
“Stupid daisies. Hello Georgie, you look beautiful, Angelina! Have you…?” Katharine trailed off, following George’s finger as he pointed up the staircase at Fred who was having a field day with Ron, tugging at a particularly curled piece of lace on Ron’s dress robes. Pulling up her dress, Katharine walked up the steps to the scene.   
“Come off it, Fred, just switch with me-”   
“No way, Ron, you’re not the one with a hot date-”   
“Whose hot date?” Katharine interjected, reaching the top of the steps, looking back to make sure her charm on the daisies had worked, and it had. Harry was behind Ron, still trying to pull off lace.   
“See! Have you even got a date, ronniekins?” Harry and Ron seemed to stop at Fred’s words, blushing wildly. Fred linked arms with Katharine, sniggering.  
“Oh, stop teasing him, Fred, it’s not that bad, Ron.” Ron scowled, catching Katharine's small smile.   
“Can we go, please?” George yelled, still standing at the bottom of the steps impatiently with Angelina. Katharine and Fred obliged, racing each other down the steps, looking back to see Ron and Harry loiter by themselves.   
“That’s just sad.” Angelina mumbled, looking sideways as the two fourth years were ambushed by Mcgonagall. Katharine nodded in agreement.   
The Great Hall had a chill to it, with brilliant ice sculptures dotting the white clothed tables, snowy Christmas trees, and a large dancing area. Fred seemed to clutch Katharine tighter, obviously nervous about dancing.   
“Fred, you’ll be fine, it’s not like they’re testing you on ballroom dancing.” Katharine reassured him as they sat down at an empty table. Katharine motioned over Emilia and Perry as they were herded in.   
Before long, Katharine was pulling Fred up out of his seat to dance. He looked terrified as they joined in, but he calmed down at Katharine’s genuine smile, falling into rhythm quickly. He nailed the lift, spinning Katharine around for too long, earning a sideways glare from Mcgonagall.   
By the time Katharine, Emilia, and Angelina had stumbled away from the large group of students jumping, screaming like mad, they were red in the faces, sweating glistening as they smiled dazedly. Perry was still dancing to the music.   
“What’s wrong?” Katharine asked as they returned to the table, seeing both of the twins scowling at the wall. They were beginning to mimic Ron, who was seated not far away, with Harry, who looked very bored.   
“Ludo Bagman.” Fred mumbled, sour expression melting slowly as Katharine pulled his face towards her, hands warm on his surprisingly cold face.   
“I need some air.” Katharine announced, standing quickly, gulping down the rest of her water before pushing away from the table, and stumbling towards the doors, Fred following behind. It was snowing when they found the doors to the courtyard, passing Flitwick, who didn’t say anything, but did look at them for a few moments.   
“Here.” Katharine turned back to Fred, seeing that he was holding out a chocolate bar, grinning. She stepped forward, taking a seat on the bench, her dress slightly groaning at the impact.   
“Did your dress just...groan?” Fred questioned, taking the piece of chocolate Katharine offered him.   
“Stupid daisies. Emilia didn’t mention they would be slightly sentient. A bunch of dramatics, I say.” She told him, eating the chocolate slowly, head leaning against the cold wall, looking up at the bright moon. Across the courtyard, a carriage shook, and a moan erupted from within. Fred and Katharine glanced at each other, and burst into laughter. The moaning stopped, a head peeked out of the window towards them.   
“Come on. One more dance. The moon is beautiful.” Katharine got up, taking Fred by the hand, letting herself be pulled in. They swayed back and forth, foreheads pressed up against each other.   
“Your mum knitted me mittens.” Katharine mumbled, a hand sliding up the back of Fred’s neck and into his hair.   
“Really? Molly Weasley?” Katharine laughed, her eyes remaining closed. She didn’t open them until she felt Fred’s forehead leave hers, his hands still secured tightly around her waist.   
“You’re beautiful, you know. You could give the Veelas a few tips.” Fred said, a small smile pulling at his lips, watching Katharine blush. His hand came up, fingers wrapping gently around her new necklace, pulling her close, lips just inches from hers.   
“How did you afford that Zonkos book?” Fred whispered, Katharine split into a smile, and kissed him. Katharine had spent the last Hogsmeade visit hiding from the twins, searching Zonkos for the fake book Fred had been talking about, the expensive one that wrote down conversations it overheard when you left it places.   
Their kissing evolved quickly, until Katharine was up against the cool wall, her dress falling off her shoulders.   
“I’m sure you have a good excuse for this one, Miss Silverwood. I do enjoy your little...fibs.” Snape announced, watching as the pair sprang apart, breathing heavily. The daisies were cheering as they gasped air dramatically. They stood there frozen, before Snape tilted his head as a way to say “go.” They did.   
“What the hell just happened?” Fred questioned as soon as they were inside the castle, leaning against a wall, laughing.   
“It’s a Slytherin super power.” 

Despite the ball ending, the after party was still going on much longer than anyone anticipated. Katharine had been smuggled into the Gryffindor common room(After Angelina had practically begged, ‘I like her! You’re boring compared to her, George!’) and the twins had a steady supply of Fire Whiskey to keep them going for a long time.   
That didn’t make much of a difference to Katharine, because the last thing she remembers of the night was being egged on while chugging a large jug of elf wine and then she woke up in Fred’s bed.   
The curtains, a deep red, were drawn around her, and she was wearing a Weasley sweater. In the dark, she could make out a faint blue ‘G’. Head pounding, she reached out blindly, and jumped when she smacked Fred’s cheek.   
“Ow.” He mumbled in a sleepy voice, reaching out to grasp Katharine’s rogue hand. He was wearing the matching ‘F’ sweater. Katharine wondered what George was wearing.   
“What time is it?” Katharine whispered, eyes clenched shut from the constant ache in her head. She pulled her hand back, rubbing at her eyes.   
“Time to sleep.” Fred replied, turning to pull Katharine back against his chest. She fought his grasp, sitting up as he mumbled incoherently.   
“I need to get back to the dungeons, Fred.” She responded, her eyes beginning to adjust to the dark.   
“No, later. We’ll steal Harry’s cloak.” Fred told her, and this time, Katharine obliged when he pulled her back into his chest. Her head was pounding behind her eyes, and she couldn’t seem to question what he meant by Harry’s cloak.   
George snapped the curtains open as the sun was beginning to rise over the tower. He threw a cloak at Katharine, who recoiled.   
“I want my sweater back,” He whispered, beginning to pull Fred’s hair until he sat straight up, eyes still shut, “Pants would be nice, Kit.”   
Katharine, still half asleep, had stood up, and realized she wasn’t wearing any pants. George was looking at her pitifully as he threw her a pair of pants.   
“I’m still drunk.” Fred whimpered, his face buried in his pillow. Katharine scratched her head, picking up the cloak George threw at her.   
“It’s harrys. Need it back before he wakes up in four hours.” George told her, and she held it out in front of her, staring at it.   
“What’s it do?”   
“What’s it do?’ It’s an invisibility cloak. Come on, Fred.” After coaxing Fred up, the two of them were rushing down the steps into the common room, where a few students were sleeping on couches. They put the cloak on before leaving out through the portrait.   
“I’m gonna throw up.” Katharine whined, still clutching her dress tightly. She’d never been this hungover before. Fred hummed in reply. They stumbled down the staircases, and somehow made it to the dungeons unscathed.   
Katharine could barely manage a goodbye before she was tripping over her own portrait, and running up to her dormitory. Emilia wasn’t in her bed, and Katharine figured she was with Perry.   
Katharine woke up five hours later, to Violet standing over her bed.


	8. 1994 - 3/3

The infirmary wing was surprisingly full when Violet finally pulled Katharine in. Her head was still pounding, the sunlight pouring in didn’t help in the slightest. In the corner, a young Beauxbaton girl was crying, still in her pajamas, standing outside of a closed curtained bed.   
As though they heard Violet and Katharine approach, they curtains snapped open, and Katharine did a double take at her entire family. Alverna, Katharine’s third year cousin, was unconscious on the cot, Madame Pomfrey doting on her. Sitting down beside the bed, was her aunt, with fresh tears in her eyes, her uncle standing beside her. Adolph and Reed, looking tired, swayed behind them. Lastly, Katharine’s own parents stood disapprovingly at the foot of the cot.   
“What’s happened?” Katharine mumbled, watching as the Beauxbaton girl started sobbing heavily, running away to another cot, and pulled the curtain shut.   
“Alverna has frostbite.” Violet whispered, and Katharine pulled a face. Why did they feel the need to all gather for-  
“Don’t say it.” Her father gritted, his eyes slitted at Katharine, who shut her mouth and scowled. To Katharine, Alverna looked fine.   
“It’s like you have no concept of what family means. Where were you?” Reed, of all people, whisper-shouted, Katharine laughed, under her breath, at the hypocrisy of it all.   
“I was sleeping. Was I supposed to have her on a leash all night? Frostbite won’t kill her.” Last time Katharine had checked, Alverna hadn’t even found somebody older to go with, so she shouldn’t have been out last night at all.   
“She could’ve!” Her aunt shouted, making a few heads turn towards the scene. Violet pulled the curtains.   
“Why is this my fault?” Katharine asked, rubbing her eyes as her aunts shouting echoed in her sharp, aching head. It seemed her family didn’t like that answer, as they all either sighed or pulled a face.  
“Her friends came into the Slytherin commons looking for you last night.” Violet whispered, watching all the color from Katharine’s face drain. She’d been with Fred all night.   
“Well, I was at the ball all night. Is that illegal?”   
“It was past midnight. Your useless friend was already drunk, and refused to answer any questions.” Katharine thought of Emilia when she got drunk, notoriously lightweight, who slurred every word after three large drinks.   
“So, I was partying. I’m sixteen.” Her father pushed past Violet, and grabbed her by the scruff of her collared pajamas. Madame Pomfrey gasped, but didn’t say anything, just left hurriedly.   
“Which house were you in last night, girl?” She could smell the brandy in his breath, while struggling against the hold, hands patting empty pockets. She hadn’t seen her wand in twenty- four hours. Katharine smiled, hearing the Infirmary wing doors push open and shut, large footsteps approaching.   
“What seems to be the problem here?” Dumbledore asked, ever the calm one in difficult situations. Katharine’s family faltered, watching her father let go over her collar, letting her feet drop back to the floor. Nobody spoke.   
Katharine could see in his eyes, what her father was saying as Dumbledore stepped in front of her. ‘He can’t protect you forever.’   
The infirmary wing doors opened again, and this time, Emilia came running in, panting, Perry in tow.   
“She was- She was with me! We- we fell asleep!”   
“It’s alright, Emilia, no need to cover. They all know exactly where I was.” Katharine took one more look at the severe faces, and turned around, her friends in tow. 

Alverna was released from the infirmary wing no less than three days after. Every time Katharine saw her, the look on her face was violent.   
“I know your mum probably taught you to cower and hide, but I’m getting pretty tired of this.” Katharine cornered her in the library after a week of Alverna popping up everywhere, scowling with her friends. The twins were sitting at a nearby table, heads tilted to watch what Katharine was saying. Alverna huffed, shoving a book back onto the shelf.   
“Where were you?” Alverna questioned, looking over to glower at the twins, who immediately went back to bending over a piece of parchment.   
“I don’t think that's what really is bothering you, Alverna. Violet told me what happened later on, how Madame Pomfrey confirmed that you didn’t have frostbite. She told your poor mum and concerned brothers that little miss perfect Alverna had alcohol poisoning.” Katharine was smiling, watching Alverna’s face melt, heat rising to her cheeks.   
“You can blame me all you want for not being there to give you the antidote before you had to go to drastic measures, but it won’t change anything. I’m going to say, based on what I heard, of course, is that you and your idiot friends mixed firewhiskey and daisy root? Rookie mistake.” Katharine walked away before Alverna could complain.   
Alverna didn’t bother Katharine after that. A cold January turned to February, and despite what happened in the infirmary, Katharine’s father was still set to come back to Hogwarts for the second task.   
Katharine, still receiving concerned letters from her mother about her future, devoted most of her time to helping Fred and George with Weasley Wizard Wheezes, which was evolving much faster than any of them would have imagined. Order forms from Slytherins were beginning to pile up in her bag, her eyes beginning to sink in from lack of sleep.   
“Have you been getting enough sleep?” George asks her during a particularly dull day in History of magic. Rain was pelting the windows, giving her a lullaby as Professor Binns dragged on. Fred wasn’t in this class, so it was up to George and her to wreak havoc in his place. They may have told him of all the disruptions they caused, but most of the time they were bent over order forms, or sleeping.   
“Hm. Sure.” Katharine mumbled, head lifting up to take a look around the room. They were supposed to be working independently, but it seems that everybody was talking amongst themselves. Professor Binns was asleep.   
“The key to success is getting enough sleep.” George told her, earning a sideways glance from Katharine. He shrugged.   
“You’re thinking about the second task.” George asked. The rain was slowly washing away the snow, but it was also lifting the levels of water in the lake. After Harry had told them about the next task, the three of them had spent hours speculating, keeping track of their bets. The task was in a week now, and Katharine couldn’t stop thinking about her father being back in Hogwarts, invading her space.   
The bell rang, George and Katharine were the first to leave, thanks to their seats right beside the door. George talked almost the entire way to potions, but Katharine could barely register what he was saying. He was right about her not getting enough sleep.   
Katharine spent the rest of the week throwing herself in her homework, taking bets on the second task, and with Fred, trying to soak as much time as she could manage before she had to look at her father.   
The day of the second task was cold, wind whipping at Katharine bitingly as they stood, shivering, on the platforms above the black lake. She had stayed behind in the Slytherin section with Emilia, already teetering a dangerous line with her father. She could see Fred and George, standing around Harry, who looked cold and nervous.   
Emilia was talking, either to Katharine or Perry, she couldn’t tell, as Katharine had been tuning out voices all week. Katharine was busy accepting late bets, writing them down on a full piece of parchment, fitting in names in space that was previously filled.   
“Doing homework, are we?” Katharine looked up, finding her father, in new robes, staring down at her, lip curled. She shivered as a new wave of cold air breezed past her.   
“No. It’s bets.” Katharine told him, listening as Emilia gasped. Her father looked taken aback, but didn’t respond. He pushed past a few first years and was gone.   
“Why would you tell him?” Emilia yelled, moving closer to Katharine to get warmer. Katharine just grinned at her, standing when a large bang sounded, and the champions jumped into the lake.   
Ron, Harry, and Fleur’s little sister had finally come up for air when Katharine had looked up for the first time from her page of bets. She bent over the railing, looking down at Fred, who was throwing a towel around his brother's shoulders. George waved his own bet page at her, smiling wildly.   
It took them all afternoon to distribute what was fair. By the time they had finished, the twins looked as exhausted as Katharine felt. She hadn’t seen her father since earlier, and she was happy about it.   
“Fancy a drink, Kit?” Angelina came up to them where they sat by the docks, smile on her face. Katharine crumpled up her bet paper, knowing she didn’t need it anymore. The four of them, laughing about the task, made their way to the Gryffindor commons, standing in front of Katharine as they smuggled her in. This party, although loud, was nothing in comparison to the Yule Ball after party. Harry was smiling, the center of attention, Ron and Hermione with him, all still a bit wet.   
Katharine spent a large portion of the evening sitting on a couch, sipping her fire whisky, nodding as Hermione talked absentmindedly about house elves.   
“Hermione, don’t you think it’s time to go?” Fred interrupted them. Katharine looked around, and most of the Gryffndor's had dispersed. Hermione smiled at her, looking at Fred, before leaving.   
“She’s interesting.” Katharine said, moving over to let Fred sit down, an arm winding over her shoulder. George was with Angelina in the corner, having a quiet conversation. Katharine, tipsy, leaned onto Fred, watching the fire dance.   
“Hermione will talk for ages if you let her. Quite annoying, really.” Fred mumbled. When he looked down at Katharine, she was fast asleep.   
For the second time, Katharine woke up in Fred’s bed the next morning. This time, Fred wasn’t there, and she was wearing her own clothes. It was still early when she ventured down the winding stairs to the common room, where Fred was sleeping, sitting upright on the couch.   
“Sorry.” She woke him lightly, running a hand through his hair. He mumbled, just moving to lay down. As Katharine walked down the staircase towards the dungeons, she couldn’t help but be surprised by how many portraits were awake. They were moving about, whispering in a panicked tone. By the time she reached the dungeons, she stopped the Bloody Baron.   
“What's happening with the portraits?” She questioned, her voice low, trying not to wake anybody. The Bloody Baron shook his head.   
“They heard Dumbledore say that Barty Crouch was killed last night. They saw Harry Potter and his friends rush into his office.”   
“I’m sorry, Barty Crouch? He’s dead?” Katharine parroted, mouth agape. The Bloody Baron nodded sorrowfully. Katharine immediately turned, head swelling with anger, and headed towards the Great Hall. As she guessed, her father sat at a long table, having a cup of tea with Professor Snape. She rushed forward, pulling her hand out of her robes, and before he could turn, her wand was at the base of his throat. Snape stood suddenly, watching Katharine breath heavily, unmoving. Her father motioned for him to sit, almost excited.   
“Barty Crouch? Really? I didn’t know you had it in you.”   
“Miss Silverwood, I insist that you-”   
“Well, father? Couldn’t stand having to work underneath somebody, or is it just part of your plan?” Katharine yelled, wand wavering slightly as it followed her father, who was beginning to stand up.   
“What exactly are you accusing me of, Katharine?” He said, fully standing now, looking repulsed by the sight of her. She was hyper aware of what she was wearing, a dirty sweatshirt with a wine stain on it.   
“You know what you-” Katharine didn’t get to finish before her father brandished his wand, flicking it, and subsequently, Katharine. She screamed, feeling her body go limp as it flew in the air, her head coming down onto a table as she fell. Before she could retaliate, already screaming, a large, strong arm swooped around her, pulling her out of the great hall.   
She didn’t stop yelling until they made it into an empty classroom and the person let go of her. Mad-Eye Moody was aiming his wand at her as she stopped, and with a crack, he had set her nose.   
“You- He- OW!” She screamed, clutching her now fixed nose, feeling the blood on her chin and sweatshirt.   
“You're bloody lucky nobody was in there, you could’ve faced consequences!” Moody yelled over Katharine's own complaints, still going on about her father.   
“Shut it! Your father, no matter how terrible, didn’t kill Barty Crouch!”   
Katharine stopped, a close eye falling on Moody. The blood was drying beneath her nose, and her aching pain was beginning to become known. She’d never mentioned that Barty Crouch was dead.   
“Your nose is fixed, go back to your commons. Now!” Katharine walked out of the classroom, still looking at the professor skeptically.   
“Oi, Kat! Did you hear about the- What the hell?” Fred exclaimed as Katharine turned to face him. He looked tired, but excited at the prospect of drama. Katharine spit out some blood that had fallen into her mouth.   
“It’s nothing, Fred.” She told him, pushing past him, walking down to the dungeons, leaving him alone in the corridor.   
Katharine didn’t realize, until she finally got up for her classes three days after, that Moody hadn’t set her nose correctly. Her nose, blooming purple and black, was crooked, a large cut down the front. She grimaced, and threw on a robe before she headed towards the infirmary.   
It was dusk, and many people looked at her sideways, clutching bags close to them. A few people asked if she was alright, which she ignored. Snape had stuck his head out of his office, and beckoned Katharine into his office. She groaned, and walked towards him.   
She sat in the familiar office, having previously been there multiple times for detentions. He placed a potion down in front of her, and stared until she downed it, gagging.   
“I’m sure you have a good excuse for missing your classes.” He said, sitting down across from her, watching her face melt from agony to anger. “You’re lucky that I covered for you, Miss Silverwood. I expect you in potions tomorrow.”   
Katharine could feel her face begin to move as her nose healed. She left, slamming the door. As she entered the desolate hallway, she could see a flash of red as Fred appeared in front of her, panting.  
“Somebody told me you were awake-” Katharine promptly burst into tears, head burying in Fred’s chest. 

Katharine barely had time to cope with what happened between studying for OWLS. Emilia had pulled her to the library almost every night before dinner, food shoved in her bag that she got from the kitchens. Some nights, she even convinced the twins to join them, but it never lasted long.   
Letters from her mother were beginning to pile up in her trunk, and Violet, under her own load of homework and studying, was looking at Katharine with concerned looks. Her nose had taken a month to heal completely. The spring came, melting the ice that was settling on the grass. Thanks to her unwanted wake-up call, Katharine was spending less time with Weasley Wizard Wheezes, and more time looking up on the requirements of becoming an auror. She spent nights upon nights pouring over essays, reciting potions, and practicing charms.   
“You’re working too hard.” Fred told her one free night as they sat in a closed off corridor, on the windowsill. Katharine laughed, pulling his arm closer around her.   
“Says the boy who doesn’t have to worry about becoming an auror.” Katharine told him, closing her book finally, relishing in the silence.   
“What’s made you decide that’s what you want to do?” Katharine could see her father, pitiful from behind bars in Azkaban.   
“No reason.”   
Professor Moody’s classes were becoming harder to sit through. He went from a practical, fun, teacher, to forcing them to write two parchments a week. Despite his usual scary appearance, it was almost like he was nervous under the scrutinizing, sharp eye of Katharine, who was still angry about her nose.  
The letters from her mother could no longer be ignored when she sent a Howler in late June, a few days before the third and final task. The school was bustling with excitement and stress alike, and Katharine was relishing in knowing she had almost finished her exams when the letter arrived at breakfast.  
“Oh no.” Perry mumbled over his toast, eyes wide at the sight of the shaking, red letter. Katharine cursed, grabbed the letter and ran promptly out of the Great Hall. She hid behind a corner before she opened it slowly.   
“KATHARINE SILVERWOOD! DO YOU THINK IT IS A FUNNY JOKE TO IGNORE YOUR MOTHER? I HAVE SPENT MONTHS AGONIZING OVER RECEIVING A RESPONSE AND IT NEVER COMES! I HAVE HALF A MIND TO COME DOWN TOP HOGWARTS AND GIVE YOU A PIECE OF MY MIND IN PERSON!”   
The letter exploded, fluttering to the ground. Behind her, it was obvious the noise brought the twins to her, who both grimaced.   
“Not answering Mum? That’s just wrong.” George tutted, hands in his robes pockets. Katharine scowled playfully, picking up some of the pieces of the letter.   
“I forgot. I’ve been busy.” The twins exchanged a look. Never since they’ve known her has Katharine forgotten something.   
After Katharine finished her potions practical (which went alright, could’ve been better if Snape hadn’t scrutinized her every move with his pointed looks), Katharine divulged all of her time taking bets with the twins, selling merchandise they had modeled over the last few months. The next few days before the task moved ever slowly, which Katharine relished in, soaking up the sun as she chased down fourth years who owed her gold.   
“Have you any plans for the summer?” Fred asks her one day, as they sit in the library alone, hiding from Filch. She looked up from her charms homework, smiling at him. He looked almost hopeful, like she might ask if she could come live with him. They had their apparition test in three days.   
“Are you kidding? I’ll be locked in the attic until I’m sent off to Hogwarts again.” Katharine jokes, but it came off sadder than she meant it. She had wanted to spend the summer with Emilia, but between her mother's anger and not wanting to leave Violet behind, she decided staying home was a better choice for everybody but her.   
“You could.. You know.. Come visit. Molly likes you.” Fred said, looking sheepish and watching Katharine closely for a response. She smiled, and leaned in to kiss him.   
“I wish I could, you know that, Fred.”   
Three days later, Katharine, Emilia, the twins, and Lee Jordan, all sauntered out of their apparition tests having passed. They celebrated with a bottle of fire whisky out by the willow tree, laughing well into the night. It was the last happy night Katharine had for a long time.   
Katharine sat with the Gryffindors at the final task. Her father was sitting with Professor Snape, ignoring her, which she was more than happy about. She could see Violet in the Hufflepuff section, holding a Cedric banner happily. She was already tipsy when the cannon sounded, and Cedric and Harry entered the maze. A glittery ‘H’ was painted on her right cheek, and Fred was holding her tightly, still shouting about merchandise to anyone who would listen. She could see Molly Weasley, arm in arm with a redheaded man who must’ve been a Weasley, smiling up at her children, then looked towards Katharine.   
She was engaged in a lively conversation on Quidditch with Angelina when red sparks came from the sky, and Fleur was ushered out of the maze. Cursing under her breath, Katharine turned to her bet paper. Not long after, Krum emerged. The three of them were forced into action as they dolled and accepted the bet money. By the time they had finished, neither Harry nor Cedric had come out of the maze yet.   
Before she could register it, Fred was lifting her up in the crowd, everybody exploding in cheers as Harry and Cedric both appeared. From where she sat on Fred’s sturdy shoulder, she could see Harry, crying, holding onto Cedric's dead body. she gasped, hand coming to cover her mouth, but nobody saw.  
She could feel her body seize up as Fred put her down, pulling her hand to go down to the field, but Katharine stopped, standing where she was, watching the Gryffindors run down onto the field. Fred hadn’t realized Katharine wasn’t behind him. She was standing frozen in the bleachers, watching as the sudden realization hit everybody. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her father walk towards the exit.   
Her feet were moving before she realized they were. Violet was suddenly on her back, tears in her eyes, pulling on her sweatshirt, trying to get her to stop, her whining filling the silent arena.   
Her ears were ringing when she exited, pushing Violet off of her, spotting her father up the hill, looking as if he was in a hurry.   
“No, Kat, please-” She heard Violet insist as she broke out into a sprint.   
“Incendio!” Katharine screamed, running up the hill, watching a burst of flames fall from her wand, lighting the bottoms of her father's robes on fire, forcing him to stop and put them out.   
“You stupid-” He couldn’t finish was he was saying as he was forced to dodge and counterattack as Katharine hit her with every curse she knew, forcing him backwards up the hill.   
“Crucio!” Her father yelled, and suddenly, every inch of Katharine’s body was engulfed in hot pain that almost knocked her unconscious. She could almost hear herself scream, not even seeing as people were beginning to leave the arena. It stopped, suddenly, as her father came forward, grabbing her by her hair, and dragged her forward. She was floating in between consciousness as her father walked quickly through the empty castle, still clutching Katharine’s hair.   
When she came to, she was back at home, in her bed. She lurched forward, coming face to face with Violet, who was sitting beside her bed.   
“You’re awake!” She exclaimed, looking more surprised than happy. Every bone in Katharine’s body ached.   
According to Violet, she’s been in and out of slight consciousness for a week. Her father hadn’t been home since the final task, when he threw her at her mother, and disapparated. There was a stack of letters on Katharine’s bedside table.   
“Where are you going?” Hours later, her mother appeared in the doorway. Violet was asleep with Socks on Katharine’s bed. Katharine was organizing her trunk, folding her clothes away. Rutherford was sitting by the windowsill, eating happily.   
“Nowhere. I’m putting my clothes away.”   
“You should be resting. You-” Her mother came close, reaching out, but Katharine recoiled, taking a few steps away.   
“Don’t touch me.” She gritted, returning to her previous task.   
Her mother looked like she was going to cry. Instead, she picked up a sweater, and held it out in front of her. A large ‘F’ was knitted on it. Quickly, Katharine snatched it away, cheeks heating up as she shoved into her drawer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAA finally


	9. 1995

Katharine spent most of her summer hidden away in her bedroom. Every time her father returned home, there was a flurry of a duel, almost always resulting in Katharine sprawled in the living room, unconscious.   
Rutherford was beginning to get irritated by the amount of letters Katharine was receiving and sending everyday. The letters from the twins were constant, ranging between worry and pleas to come stay with them, and updates on their joke shop.   
If they were anything, the twins were persuasive, and there had been many times when she almost left, considering just apparating in front of the Burrow. She never made it, though, as she would take one look at Violet, getting paler and more concerned as the days moved forward, and knew she couldn’t leave.   
Narcissa and Draco Malfoy were becoming regular guests of Katharine’s mother. When Katharine came down for tea, at least once a week, they would be sitting at the table. Narcissa, a pleasant, kind woman, always exchanged pleasantries, but Draco always seemed to sense the uncomfortable distance between Katharine and her own mother. He watched her with a keen eye, only looking away when Katharine leveled with him.   
She spent most of her time sitting at her desk, bent over Advanced Spells for Unordinary Witches and Wizards. As July turned to August, their Hogwarts letters arrived, specifying what they would need. To her surprise, the day after a particularly nasty fight with her father, her mother woke her up, leaning over her bed, next to an already dressed Violet.   
“Come, we’re going to Diagon Alley for your things.”   
It took Violet’s help to get dressed, as her entire body was in pain, and she was still coughing up fire from a failed curse. The bottoms of her robes were still singed when they arrived in the Leaky Cauldron. Katharine held back behind her mother, who was clutching Violet’s hand so hard that she thought it would fall off, taking time to watch witches and wizards pass by.   
Katharine stopped in front of an empty storefront as she watched her mother and Violet walk into Flourish and Botts. Trusting that her mother could manage on her own with Katharine’s list, she paid for a small ice cream in Florean Fortescue's, and returned in front of the empty storefront. She coughed, a small spurt of fire disappearing in the air, and she finally felt the hot sizzle in her throat leave.   
“Hello.” George was bounding towards her, coming from the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. Upon closer inspection, he was alone.   
“George? What are you doing here? Where is-”   
“Fred? Covering for me. On some business.” George held up a small leather bag that seemed to be full of coins. They sat on a nearby bench, sitting in silence. George fussed with his pockets for a few minutes, before pulling out a piece of paper.   
“Here.” He said, handing the paper to Katharine, which read:   
The headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix is 12 Grimmauld Place, London  
“What is-” George was standing, looking at her mother, who was coming towards them in a fit of fury.   
“See you at school, George.” Katharine whispered, dumping her empty cup in the trash before running towards her mother, who looked like she was about to burst a blood vessel.   
‘Is that..him?” Her mother asks, in a hushed voice, peeking from behind Katharine’s shoulder, watching George disapparate.   
“No.” Katharine tells her, cheeks heating up, reaching for her new books, before following Violet into the pet store.   
Katharine spent all night bent over her new charms book that night. At midnight, she ventured down towards the kitchen, hoping a house elf would be awake to make her something, when she stopped in front of the study, the door cracked open, a light emitting, swallowing the whispers from inside.   
“He is insisting-”   
“No! I refuse! He can’t-”   
“He is angry, Imogene. If we don’t, we’ll all be next-”   
“Why Violet? She has never hurt a fly!” Katharine felt her body seize up, eyes the size of saucers.   
“No matter how rebellious and stupid Katharine may be, she will ultimately submit. I can see it in her eyes. Her curses are getting better and better. We have no chance with Violet, she’s just like your sister.”   
“Don’t you ever mention Cheyenne! Ever!” Her mother's voice was low and hissing. Katharine had never heard either of them speak like this. Just the idea that her father still expects her to submit disturbed her.   
“Fine. But I’m warning you now. The Dark Lord expects us to do it before she leaves for Hogwarts. It would be impossible any later.” Katharine could hear her mother crying softly, and then footsteps approached. As quick and quietly as she could, she shot back up the stairs, shaking.   
Urgently, Katharine shook Violet awake, beckoning for her to be quiet as she pulled her into her own room, locking the door behind her.   
“What is it?” Violet mumbled, rubbing her eyes, watching Katharine hurriedly scribble a small letter, before poking Rutherford awake, who looked irritated, but stuck his leg out. Once he flew away towards the moonlight, Katharine shoved her charms book open again.   
“You still have the trace. But with them, they’ll be able to help… this should do.” Violet had approached slowly, watching Katharine shake as she read over a charm, before turning back to Violet.   
She held up her wand, taking a deep breath, and began to murmur an incantation. Violet watched, eyes wide, as silvery white magic spilled from her wand, pressing around Violet. It was warm, and filled Violet comfortably enough that she shut her eyes.   
Katharine beckoned Violet to sit at the desk before she rushed away from the room, only returning with Violet’s already packed trunk and cat carrier.   
“What’s happening, Kat?”   
“Listen to me very carefully. I’ve placed a protective charm on you that should hide you for four to five days maximum. You have five days until it’s time to go back to Hogwarts, where you’ll be safe. You remember the Weasley’s, right?”  
Violet nodded, looking very overwhelmed as she struggled to tie her robes. Katharine smiled reassuringly at her, panic in her eyes. They flickered to the door, and then back at the open window. Rutherford had not come back yet. Katharine shoved a piece of paper in Violet’s face, which she took, and read over and over again, upon request of Katharine.  
“You’ll be fine. Trust me.” Katharine told her, clutching Violet’s trunk, and then reached for her hand. Before Violet could take another breath, she was plunged into a daze as they apparated.   
“Are you alright? Do you need to vomit?” Katharine kneeled in front of Violet, who was panting on the sidewalk, looking green. Behind her, buildings were moving, but Violet didn’t know if it was on purpose, or if she was just dizzy.   
Katharine helped her to her feet, smiled frantically, and disapparated. Violet was alone. This didn’t last long, as the front door of the building that had just materialized in front of her swung open, and the twins stood there, looking as frantic as Katharine, in pajamas.   
“Violet? Where is Kat?” Fred asks, stepping forward to tug her into the house.   
“Calm down, Fred, she’s still looking green.” George whispers, closing the door behind them, pulling along her trunk.   
“She went back, I think.” Violet murmurs, clutching her stomach as they lead her down a corridor and into a dimly lit dining room. George ushered for her to sit down, and disappeared up a staircase. Fred was pacing back and forth, reading the letter that Katharine had sent. Rutherford, who still looked dazed from his journey, came over to Violet, nibbling at her fingers. In moments, a plump woman came down the steps with George, looking concerned.   
“Oh dear, you look ill! First time apparating now, yes?” The woman told her, a warm hand placed on Violet’s cheek. Violet couldn’t stumble any words as she walked to Fred, taking the letter and reading it for herself.   
“Well, as I said before, any niece of Cheyenne’s is always welcome with us!”   
The next five days, Violet was welcomed into the Weasley family with open arms. Ginny and Hermione seemed happy to have the company. The twins, whenever they weren’t hidden away in their bedroom, were asking strange questions about Katharine.   
She couldn’t shake the look Katharine gave her that night, and hoped that nothing happened to her. There were a few serious discussions with order members on the whereabouts of Katharine, but Violet was of no help.   
On September 1st, the Weasley’s, plus Hermione and Harry, were all ushered to King’s Cross. Rutherford, who returned last night, with no letter from Katharine was forced to share a carrier with Hedwig, who seemed angry.   
Fred and George were particularly quiet, eyes peeled the entire journey, and they immediately went off on a hunt once they got onto the train.   
An hour into the journey, Fred and George returned to their compartment, Katharine between them, looking particularly happy to see Violet.   
“What happened to your face?” Violet questioned after they hugged, a fingertip tracing over the large bruise over her eye, and her split lip. Katharine just smiled, still ecstatic to see her sister.   
“What she said.” Fred repeated once they sat down, suddenly filling the compartment that already had Harry, Ginny, Neville, and Luna.  
“Oh it’s nothing. Just a-” Katharine coughed, and George had to jump up to narrowly miss the puff of fire that burst directly towards his robes.   
“Sorry George,” She apologized, “Went better than last time, singed a bit of his hair off.”   
Katharine looked happy with her fire-coughs, as the curse did go much better than last time she tried it. She spent the rest of the trip telling them what happened that week, with as little of detail as she could manage. She never told Violet what had happened that night.   
Fred, George, and Katharine left the compartment in favor of finding a secluded one once Hermione and Ron returned from the prefect section.  
“...I’m not sure he said death. But my mother was crying. I know what he said was serious.” Katharine told them, bent over a book of healing, trying to heal her own bruises. The twins had offered, but the last time they had tried, they almost blasted her eye out.   
“I don’t know how parents could be so loveless.” George questioned, stony at the assumption. Katharine sighed, putting down her wand after her spell didn’t work.   
“My mother is not loveless. But my father is. Like Potter said, many death eaters that aren’t in Azkaban were at the graveyard, but my father wasn’t. I’m sure it’s because he was keeping an eye on the tournament. I know this is why the...he.. You-know-who is so angry.”   
“So angry that they have to kill their child?” Fred said, looking particularly red at her explanation. Rutherford fluttered, sitting beside George. Katharine grimaced at his words. She had obviously tried not to think about it as much as the twins had.   
“Let’s just focus on school, alright? It’ll be particularly hard for death eaters to breach Hogwarts. Violet is safe.” All three of them didn’t seem to believe Katharine’s words, but they still plunged into silence anyway.   
“This is the worst.” Katharine and Emilia were leaned over their potions essays on the second day. Snape, no better than the years before, seemed to believe that NEWT level classes meant that potions should’ve been their top priority; even if Katharine particularly detested it.   
“We would’ve been done much earlier if you hadn’t almost singed Snape’s eyebrows off in class.” Emilia mumbled, a faint scowl on her face as she scribbled on her parchment, missing the faint tint on Katharine’s cheeks. When Snape leaned over towards her potion, she coughed fire all over the table, and set her notebook on fire. Snape had given them two extra scrolls to do by next week.   
“Where did you even learn to do that?” Emilia spoke, long after they returned to the Slytherin commons, rubbing her hands to ease the aching.   
“Do what?” Katharine asked, leaned over her charms book, her wand absentmindedly swinging back and forth. Every time it passed by the fire, it jumped back in fear.   
“The fire thing. You’ve been setting things on fire all week.” Katharine grinned, and pulled out a tattered book from her bag. Emilia moved closer, tilting her head to read the title. Katharine placed her wand lightly on the cover, and it swung open, pages fluttering to the correct page. Emilia read it, carefully, eyebrows furrowing as she did, picking up the book to bring it closer. When she finished it, she gave Katharine an alarmed look.  
“Kat, this is dark magic. Where did you get this?” Emilia whispered, moving to shove the book back into her bag. Katharine looked at her sideways.   
“What? I found it- Oh.” Katharine had found it in the bookshelf at her house one night while looking for a spell book to delve into.   
“For the love of Merlin, don’t use it anymore, unless you want to get expelled.” Katharine heeded Emilia’s words carefully, but she couldn’t help but feel almost proud when she remembered the look of fear on her parent’s previously angry faces when the fire spit out of her mouth like vomit, surrounding them, becking to her every command.   
“Yeah, that’s not normal.” Fred said, after Katharine told him what happened. She frowned, laying back down on the bench. They were sitting in the courtyard, enjoying the sun before the winter melted it away.   
“It’s not like I cursed anybody.” Katharine mumbled, wrenching open her charms book again, flicking to the protective charms section. Fred was muttering to himself, writing on a piece of parchment. When Katharine looked over, the ink was disappearing from the page once it was full.   
Katharine sat up, immediately wrenching it from Fred’s fingers, “Where’d you get this?” She questioned, watching the ink fade away and return the parchment to clean and empty.   
“Nicked it from Emilia.” Fred told her, reaching for the parchment. Katharine narrowed her eyes, but gave it back. Fred returned to his furious writing.   
“What are you writing about, anyway?” Katharine asked, laying back down on the bench, looking at Fred upside down.   
“Combinations with the snack boxes, trying to make sure they don’t kill people.” Katharine was tucked back into her charms book, sitting up once again.   
“Here it is! I found it!” Katharine exclaimed, a bright smile on her face that made Fred put down the parchment again, leaning over to see. She was looking at a rather heavy protective charm, that would make any deadly curse rebound onto the attacker. At the top, in big letters, were the words “NOT FOR BEGINNERS.”   
“Scared of somebody, Kit?” Fred said, tilting his head, reading just how dangerous the charm was. She scoffed.   
“No, It’s for Violet. This way, nothing can happen.”   
“There are...different ways to kill people, you know?”   
“Fred, I wouldn’t do this alone, I’d put another protective charm on her too. I just need time to perfect this. I need to see Flitwick.” She said, standing up, head still in the book, heading off back towards the castle, leaving Fred alone.   
In so many words, Professor Flitwick dismissed her ability to place the charm, and called her incredulous to want to try, in so many words. Katharine, in a fit of fury and irritation, had sent off to try it for herself, and she couldn’t help but want to spite her teacher more than protect her sister.   
“How’s Quidditch?” Katharine asked on a cold, October Sunday. The twins, Emilia and her had decided that in order to get away from the annoying, rising regime of Umbridge was to camp out behind the willow, dressed in unidentifiable robes. Lee Jordan was in the infirmary wing with a nasty bloody nose that Fred fervently claimed wasn’t their fault. George, at Katharine’s question, threw his head back and groaned, clutching the blueprint of a firework. Emilia was sitting on a rather large branch beside him, flipping through Katharine’s tattered dark magic book, shaking her head every so often. Fred and Katharine were sitting on the ground, having been practicing Katharine’s weaker protective charms.   
“If Ron doesn’t pull it together, I worry I might kill myself if we lose.” Emilia tutted at something, flipping through a few pages.   
“He can’t be that bad; you come from a family of good Quidditch players.” Katharine said, as Fred laid down, head resting on her thigh, looking at the clouds above.   
“I wish it was that simple, Kit. He’s not bad, but he’s so nutty that he lets every leer get to his head.” Fred said, and Katharine frowned. She had always liked Ron, despite that he was a bit snappish with her sometimes.   
In the distance, the smell of lunch floated down the hills. They sat quietly for awhile, Katharine pointing out strange clouds to Fred, who couldn’t care less, but still nodding and mumbling something along the lines of, “pretty, dear.” On their branch, George was trying to get Emilia to let him see the book, but she blatantly refused, saying that the book falling into the wrong hands could be disastrous.   
“I’m not going to set Snape on fire, unlike Katharine here.” George exclaimed, earning a sharp glower from Katharine, whose face was still a little yellow from the bruises that had been there before.   
None of them had noticed Violet running down the hill with Ginny and Neville, clutching a large parcel in her hands. They were panting by the time they reached the willow, not able to say anything for a few moments.   
“What’s that?” Katharine stood up, coming over to her sister instantly, her own friends following behind.  
“Unaddressed...package...Rutherford brought it for you, I didn’t want to touch it.” Violet said, still breathing heavily as she put the parcel down, and opened it. Inside, was a yellow scarf. She’d told Violet before of her dreams about a yellow scarf, and now it was staring back up at her.   
“Don’t touch it, George!” Emilia screamed, slapping away George’s hand, “We need to take it to Dumbledore.” 

“You interrupted me for...a scarf?” Snape drawled, as Katharine and Emilia stood in front of him in his office. The box lay open on the table.   
“It’s not a regular scarf, sir, I-” Snape held his finger up, and Katharine immediately stopped talking, watching him lift it up with his wand. He inspected it for a few moments, before setting it down again.   
“Who sent this?” He said, regaining his poise, looking back up at them.   
“Dunno, Professor. It was sent unaddressed.”   
“I see. You may go.”   
“But Professor-”   
“Go.”   
The twins and Violet were waiting outside when they finally were pushed out of his office. Katharine didn’t say a word, just grabbed Violet’s arm and began walking hurriedly away. 

The Slytherin common room was exceedingly quiet at two in the morning. The fire was half burnt out, emitting a low green light on the squashed green velvet chair that Katharine sat in.   
Wrapped in night robes, Socks sat on her lap, she read through the dark magic book. It had been two weeks since somebody sent that scarf, and Snape wouldn’t confirm nor deny that the scarf was cursed. What was troubling Katharine, was that the parcel had been addressed to her. This seemed to trouble Fred, almost more than it did her, as when he wasn’t in class, at Quidditch practice or selling products to first years, he was looking over Katharine’s shoulder for her.   
Her eyes were drooping when there were footsteps on the staircase, and then a large gasp at the sight of Katharine, sitting up, by the fire.   
Draco Malfoy was in his own pajamas, obviously sweating, looking panicked. He quickly fixed his face, regaining his normal composure when he saw Katharine.   
“Hiding something, Malfoy?”   
“I could say the same thing to you, Katharine.” his voice broke, his badly concealed fear peeking through. Katharine stood, dropping the book by a disgruntled Socks.   
“I think...You know something.” Katharine said, getting closer to him, watching him slightly falter. Katharine took out her wand, pressing it to his chin, watching his head look up, his eyes searching frantically for anything. She knew he hadn’t brought his wand with him.   
“I- I don’t know what you mean.” Katharine audibly laughed, just light enough for Draco to hear it. When he scowled in response, she pushed her wand closer to his Adams apple. Suddenly, the fire behind her shot up to life, great, big, green flames licking the stone above.   
“Dark magic is prohibited.” Draco said, quoting the guidelines he read a hundred times over when he became a prefect. Katharine cracked a large smile, but it wasn’t a nice one. Immediately, the fire burnt out.   
“Who said anything about dark magic?” She replied, feigning innocence, “Who sent the scarf, Malfoy?”   
All at once, Katharine realized that Draco, having come down to the common room in a panicked state at two in the morning, was about to cry. He was shaking, his lip trembling. Katharine immediately backed off, her heart aching at what she’d done to him. He let out a large breath, grasping the couch for stability. She watched him, with a peculiar look, as he worked to regain his composure.   
“Alright, you don’t know what happened. I believe you.” Katharine mumbled, watching Draco look up at her with glassy eyes. She grabbed her book, and ventured up the staircase to the dormitory.   
As she laid back in her bed, she knew she had been unreasonable. Draco was fifteen, and no matter how rude he may be, there was no way he knew anymore than Violet did, let alone Katharine. After all, he was just a boy.   
Katharine didn’t tell anyone about what happened in the common room. By morning, Draco was back to the snarky, rude boy she always knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no clue how long this year is gonna be :D


	10. 1995 - 2

“I need you to get rid of this.” Katharine had marched in behind Neville through the portrait, into the Gryffindor common room, and was now thrusting the dark magic book at Hermione Granger.  
She had been reading, a sloppily made hat being knit beside her head. She was now looking at Katharine as if she had two heads. Rain hit the windows hard, and Katharine stole a glance towards where Fred and George were bracing Quidditch practice.  
“Why- Why me?” Hermione said in a small voice, looking at Ginny for help, which didn’t come. Katharine was still standing there, holding the book out, clad in her Slytherin robes, and was beginning to get stares.  
“Because you’re smart. The fires are watched. Slytherin is too suspicious to get rid of something like this. Please- I need it gone.” Katharine said, voice going to a whisper as Hermione took the book, opening it.  
“This is-”  
“Yes, I know.”  
“But It’s-”  
“Yes, Hermione.”  
“I’m a Prefect-”  
“Would you rather me get expelled, then?”  
Katharine had only ever had one conversation with Hermione, and that was after the second task, before Katharine had been beaten down so far as to believe she was becoming somebody she wasn’t. Hermione shut the book, looking at Katharine with a solid look. Ginny returned to her homework.  
“Alright. Fancy a walk?”

  
Hermione reminded Katharine very much of Emilia. Not only in mannerisms, but how they talked, both of them are complacent know it alls, but loving, trusting friends. From the moment Katharine had sat there, nodding, taking in every word about S.P.E.W, she could tell that Hermione trusted her. It was soon revealed that, in a moment of fear, Fred had actually asked Hermione to keep an eye on Violet. Hermione told her he had rounded on her in the library, looking red and deadly.  
“I’ve never seen him like that. You’d think he was being followed.” Hermione told her as they sat in the library, a book of spells between them. It was nearing sunset, the twins, Harry, and Ron were sure to be out of practice by now.  
“Hm. He probably was. By me. It’s very hard to catch him these days…” Katharine pondered, tapping her fingers absentmindedly on the table. Hermione had not mentioned her very obvious curiosity as to how Katharine came across the book that was now shoved at the bottom of her bag.  
“It was on the bookshelf at my house. I was looking for new ways to fight my father that would end in a big bloody pile.'' Katharine told her, smiling mischievously as she pulled the spellbook closer, beginning to flip through it.  
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, Kit! The herbology essay- Oh, hello, Granger.” Emilia had come round the corner, clutching two gigantic books in her open arms, looking disheveled. Hermione looked sheepish as Emilia looked at her, mouth parted in a slight grin. Emilia was now a prefect, hair bright yellow. Her green Slytherin sweater was tattered, revealing patches of skin.  
“Alright, I hear you. Herbology. I’ll see you, Hermione. Thanks a million.” Katharine got up from the table, waving politely as Emilia dragged her away.

  
Later that night, Katharine was back in the Gryffindor common room, this time with Fred, bent over the fire, telling him about what had happened. He looked glazed over, hair still wet from practice, turning Katharine’s hands over in his palm. Beside him, Katharine’s new invisibility cloak lay, having found it while scourging the attic on one hot July evening. It had also been the evening she found a boggart hiding in the unused desk, making her uneasy as Voldemort flounced closer and closer-  
“I was scared of what the book was doing to me. So I enlisted Hermione to help. Fred, are you alright?” Katharine was looking at him, a concerned look painted on her face as she reached to grasp his cheeks with her now warm hands. He smiled slightly, eyes darting away.  
“Funny business, this year is. Seems to be getting worse by the minute.” Katharine smiled sadly at his words, looking away. Fred could see the cogs in her mind turning.  
“Fred, how come you’ve never pranked me before?” Katharine said, bringing up an entirely new subject. Fred raised an eyebrow, leaning back, an arm around the back of the couch, fingers moving deftly across Katharine’s back.  
“Easy. We were scared of you. Still are, with all that rubbish with the fire.” Katharine smiled now, her eyes visibly lightening in the fire. Out of the corner of her eye, a head flashed in the fireplace, and was gone again. Immediately, she stood, crawling closer to the fire, her face beginning to heat up.  
“You saw that? How much do you want to bet it’s Umbridge spying? I’ve got to go, Fred.” Katharine said, standing up, suddenly panicked, pulling the invisibility over her shoulders, her body immediately disappearing. She missed the nervous look on Fred’s face as she left the Gryffindor common room.

As if Fred could see the future, the year didn’t get worse by the minute. With Umbridge now breathing down the back of their necks, Katharine was beginning to feel stuck. She barely saw Violet these days, making her mind turn off into violent scenarios of Violet face down in an abandoned bathroom, dead. As November came, It only became worse. The Slytherin common room was giving Katharine a headache, and now with Quidditch nearing, the fat lady refused to allow Katharine in, no matter how many correct passwords she gave her.  
On top of that, since the scarf incident, she had a funny feeling that Snape was watching her. He gave her top marks on her essays, as always, but the look in his eye showed Katharine that he knew something was up.  
Emilia was humming Weasley Is Our King at breakfast the morning of the first Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Katharine realized, after spending so long having to hear it in the commons, that she didn’t realize she was humming it. When Katharine stared at her with a blank look, her cheeks flushed, and she mumbled an apology.  
Across the hall, she could see the twins, sitting with the rest of their team. Luna, wearing a large lion replica on her head, was approaching Harry, arm and arm with Violet.

The day was windy and cold, and even wrapped up in a stolen Gryffindor scarf, Katharine had trouble getting warmer. Behind them in the stands, was Violet and Luna, who had been forced to sit in the back because of Luna’s large hat. The match had not been going well, and Katharine was beginning to grimace as the taunts of Weasley Is Our King grew louder from the Slytherin section. If she still had her dark magic book, she would’ve done a spell that would’ve shut them right up, since they like snakes so much…  
By the time Harry caught the snitch, the match could’ve easily been mistaken with a large brawl. Madam Hooch was screaming at the Slytherins, and while her back was turned, the Gryffindors were beginning to crowd around Malfoy, who was still spitting profusely. The spectators, still cheering for the win, had taken no notice when George lunged at Malfoy, teamed by Harry. Katharine’s hand shot immediately to her wand in her pocket, but Emilia grabbed her with a cold hand, eyes warning, finger pointing to the field, where George and Harry were already running off the pitch. Fred was being held back by his teammates, seething.  
“I wasn’t going to curse Malfoy.” Katharine exclaimed as she and Emilia turned up the hill, following the ragged footsteps of Harry and George. Angelina had told her the password to the Gryffindor common room, telling her they’d try to get Fred there as quickly as they could.  
“I know you, Kat, of course you wouldn’t have cursed him. That bat-bogey hex was for sure swimming in your head, though.” Emilia jokes, watching a small smile meeting Katharine’s mouth. Her hair was pulled back in a messy braid, her hair still a bit too short. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, her sweater beaming a bright ‘F’ on the front, half blocked by George’s scarf.  
“I would’ve done anything to protect George. He’s one of my best friends.” Katharine responded, back to a stoic look as they both followed a crowd of Gryffindors up the staircase.  
“Well, from what I could see, he can pack a punch on his own.” Emilia told her, and they plunged back into silence.  
As they separated ways, Katharine was surprised to see Fred, standing by the portrait, pacing back and forth.  
“Alright, Fred?” She said quietly, a hand reaching his bicep, pulling him off to the side to let a few Ravenclaws pass. He was still red in the face, but his shoulders were less tense than they had been on the field.  
“George and Harry aren’t back yet. I can’t go in there.” Fred murmurs, bringing his finger to his mouth, biting unknowingly. A few first years recited a password, and the portrait swung open. Without another word, the two of them walked down the staircase and turned left into a darkened hallway. Fred was clutching Katharine’s hand so tightly she was sure the circulation was going to be cut off.  
“I can’t believe- little twat- I would’ve wrung his neck until he was- How stupid…” Fred muttered to himself all the way to the small alcove, hidden behind a large unkempt statue of Merlin. Filch almost never came down here, and much less knew anything about the alcove. The sun was halfway in the sky, bright white sky surrounding it. Out the window, Katharine watched students walk up and down the hill, smiling and laughing. When she looked over, Fred was doing the same, with a rather miserable look on his face. Out of the top of his Quidditch jersey, Katharine could see a small daisy, probably pinned to the inside. She smiled, pulling him closer by the sweater, turning the hem inside out, confirming her suspicions.  
“Good luck.” He mused, looking down at the now mostly dead daisy. His hair flopped over his eyes, tickling Katharine’s forehead.  
Katharine didn’t speak, a faint smile played on her face as she placed a warm hand over the daisy. When she pulled away, it had returned to yellow, as alive as it had been on Christmas day last year. It audibly sighed, and hummed.  
“Come on, I suppose George and Harry might be back.” Katharine said, beginning to climb down when Fred held onto her jacket, and she fell back into his arms, back against his chest.  
“I’m too nervous. Just a little longer.” He whispered, head falling listlessly against Katharine’s shoulder. Emilia’s prefect badge, which Katharine had stolen that morning and bewitched to resemble a snake, who had their parted tongue sticking out, a dazed look on their face, was glinting in the sunlight.

In par with anger of having been banned from Quidditch forever, the twins threw themselves into their merchandise, spending more time bent over a parchment together than focusing in class. Katharine, however, was more frustrated with school than she had ever been. She was so close to meeting the requirements to becoming an auror, she could taste it, but her disgust for the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher may have put a wedge between Katharine and her goal. As Umbridge, who Katharine lovingly called toadface, gained more and more control over Hogwarts, Katharine’s patience began to dwindle. Despite having purposefully distanced herself from whatever was happening in the Room of Requirements with Potter, Umbridge still seemed to hold a certain anger towards Katharine.  
On a snowy December afternoon, Katharine sat in Umbridge’s putrid office, stinking heavily of Sock’s litter box and perfume. She was as stiff as a board, shaking her head tightly when Umbridge offered her tea. The teacup appeared in front of her anyway.  
“So, Miss Silverwood, I assume you are wondering why I have asked you to come here.” A cat on the wall mewed. Umbridge's sickly fake voice rang in Katharine’s head, making it hard not to grimace at the sound.  
“Yes, Professor.” She gritted in response, watching Umbridge’s fake smile widen under her beady eyes. She took a small sip of her tea, motioning for Katharine to do the same thing. Katharine’s hands didn’t leave her lap.  
“I see you have an extensive knowledge of all things defense against the dark arts. You have aced all essays, homework, and exams I have set so far this year. You have a real talent, Miss Silverwood.” Katharine’s last name on Umbridge’s sickly tongue made her shudder with disgust. Looking down, her tea swirled absently, glinting back up at her.  
“Thank you, Professor.”  
“Of course. I couldn’t help but also notice that you are...special friends with the Weasley twins,” She let out a small, squeaky giggle, her face pinched tightly, “I can’t tell them apart.”  
“Professor, I’d like to politely refer you to Education Decree Number Twenty Six, instead of answering. It decreed that teachers were-”  
“I know what it decreed, Miss Silverwood. Fine.” Umbridge’s face was now splotchy with red, her eyes darkening at Katharine’s insubordination.  
“What is your intention of doing once you leave Hogwarts?” Umbridge’s voice had turned to its usual, high-pitched squeal.  
“I intend on becoming an auror, Professor.” All of the sudden, Umbridge stood, pudgy hand slamming down on the desk. The cats on the wall skidded, the teacups rattled where they sat, untouched. Katharine tried not to crack a smile.  
“So you admit to being taught by Potter? What are Dumbledore and Potter up to?” Umbridge demanded, spitting into Katharine’s tea. Katharine, finding her outbreak to be highly funny, tried to hide her smile, and feign innocence.  
“I have no idea what you mean, Professor!” She must’ve been damn good too, because at the sight of Katharine’s fake eyes of terror, her lip trembling, Umbridge immediately composed herself, sitting back down with a strained smile.  
“You may go, Silverwood.” Katharine stood, a fearful look disappearing from her face. Once her back was to Umbridge, a large smile broke out, and she worked to restrain her laughter.

The following morning, after telling Emilia all about her interaction with Katharine, Rutherford swooped down, and dropped a letter square in her lap. The swooping curls of the letters on the front immediately told Katharine that the letter was from her mother.  
“I don’t want to open it.” She mumbled, staring at it almost like it might bite her. Emilia tilted her head at her, and then snatched the letter, hurriedly moving to open it. Katharine watched Emilia’s eyes move down the page, her lips speaking silently.  
“It’s not good.” Emilia mumbled, eyes moving away from the page. Katharine immediately grabbed it.

Katharine,  
We have received a letter from Professor Umbridge of your insubordination. I don’t quite believe it, as I’ve never known you to throw teacups against walls, but your father does. She also disclosed your wishes to become an auror.  
You are in a tight spot, Katharine, even I will admit that. As much as I love you and wish for your protection, I made a promise years ago that I must hold myself to.  
I didn't wish to disclose this, but the spell book you 'found' this summer was the only thing that bound me to you to keep track of you after you almost burnt your fathers hair off. When you rid of it, we became completely unaware of your doings there. We had originally hoped it would've swayed you, to the correct life, it's becoming increasingly obvious that you are a lost cause to us.  
You have progressed far quicker than I could’ve ever seen happening, but when it comes down to the thick of things, inane courage will not protect you. The moment you chose to continue on the path of empty loyalty to Dumbledore, your fate was sealed.  
Your father wishes me to tell you that if by the end of this year you do not renounce Dumbledore, the Weasleys, and distance yourself, unfortunately, from Emilia Dots, we will be stripping you of all claims to the Silverwood name. You will not get anything once we are gone. Everything we have will go to your cousins, who have distinct instructions to disown you, as well.  
You are welcome to come home for Christmas under the strict rule that you surrender your wand at the door.  
I can not live without both of my children. Please, consider.  
Mum

Katharine was shaking when she finished reading. To her surprise, the letter burst into flames, swooping down the Slytherin table, and into a large pitcher of milk.  
“Kat?” Emilia said in a small voice, watching Katharine stare straight forward, the words slowly melding into her brain.  
“There’s no question, Emilia,” She mumbled, eyes going glassy, “I’d choose Fred everyday, one thousand times over.”  
Katharine stood abruptly, and rushed from the Great Hall. Emilia could see distinct tears as she side-stepped around Fred, and disappeared.

Katharine didn’t tell anybody about the letter. Christmas was fast approaching, and she had been the first person to write her name on the list to stay at Hogwarts. Even if there was an open invitation at the Burrow, Katharine knew she would never be able to accept it.  
She lay awake at night, listening to Emilia’s small sniffles on the bed over. The letter had gotten to her as well. Since she’d only been giving a small amount of information, Katharine thought it only fair to tell her everything. Emilia continued to be pale and quiet for several days.  
Katharine could tell that the twins were becoming suspicious. Katharine had always been very focused on her studies, but now it was fervent aggravation to prove her parents wrong, coupled with the fear that if she didn’t land on her feet when she left Hogwarts, what would she do?  
She knew that her life was set in the same stone as Fred. Even after she had read the letter, her immediate thought was that she would never be able to leave Fred. Fred was the love of her life, the only person she'd confided in for years, the person she wanted to see every day. The guilt twisted Katharine so tightly as she came back to horrid visions Violet dead every time she closed her eyes. How had what her own mother did to Cheyenne been any different?  
"The two don't correlate at all, Kit," Emilia reassured late one night in the common room, caressing Katharine's hair as she cried on Emilia's shoulder, "Your mother married your father for protection, because she was unable to help her. You, you love Fred. And you, are the cleverest witch I've ever known. You could keep Violet safe for her entire life without batting an eye."

Despite Emilia's attempts to help, Katharine mulled over the last sentence of the letter quite carefully, everyday, all day. What did she mean, by losing both children? Had they set a plan in place? Was Violet in danger?  
Despite their immature demeanor, their love of jokes, the twins had always come to Katharine as a pair of comforting friends who always knew exactly what to do in tight spots. No matter how much Katharine loved Fred, she felt a certain twinge in her stomach at the thought of telling him. She didn't think she could bare having him guilt ridden at the idea of Katharine being disowned to be with him. So, She nicked George before potions, and they found themselves talking in hushed tones for a long time. When she told George about her quarrels, the letter, about Violet, he immediately had an answer for her.

“Go to Dumbledore,” George said, shooing away a few eager first years who approached their bench with money, “He’ll know what to do.”  
Katharine was afraid of that answer. The one thing Katharine didn’t want to do was tell Dumbledore of all people, that her family were filthy death eaters and were planning on murdering her younger sister at Hogwarts. No matter how badly the Daily Prophet paints him, Katharine didn’t know if he’d respond well to that information.  
It seemed like George didn’t take no for an answer, because soon, they were both standing in front of his office. The gargoyles rumbled, and a staircase appeared. They both looked at each other in amazement, but they soon realized that all that happened was Mcgonagall exiting.  
“Mr. Weasley, Miss Silverwood?” She questioned expectantly. George didn’t falter, but Katharine couldn’t help but feel impeccably small under Mcgonagall's eye. She couldn’t help but think about how the Gryffindors feel about Snape.  
“Professor, Katharine needs to see Dumbledore. It’s… for the order.” George whispered the last bit, and his message seemed to get across, because Mcgonagall was stepping away to let Katharine pass. George didn’t come with her.  
The door was open when Katharine approached. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, facing away from the door. Katharine stood in the doorway, her eyes wide, mind spurring thoughts around at a fast pace.  
“Miss Silverwood. I heard you coming.” Dumbledore turned around, giving Katharine a small twinkling smile. She was at a loss for words, lips pursed, wringing her hands. The door shut softly behind her, and she took a few small steps forward.  
“Now, what seems to be the problem?” And then, looking at Dumbledore closely, Katharine collapsed in a chair, and began recounting everything. How she had overheard her parents over the summer, sent her sister to Grimmauld place, and how she felt Violet was still in immediate danger here. Outside a small window, she could see snow falling on the hills. People were throwing snowballs, and she could’ve sworn she saw a flash of red hair that looked like Fred.  
“I see. Where is Violet now?” Dumbledore asked after Katharine had finished, still breathing heavily from panic. She was expecting him to distrust her, or even laugh. He did neither.  
“She’s in the Hufflepuff common room. Homework.”  
“Ah, yes. Fifth year. I daresay, we should retrieve her, Miss Silverwood, so we can set a protection plan in place.” To Katharine’s surprise, Dumbledore completely trusted her word. She wished it made her feel better, but her stomach still dropped. Dumbledore didn’t believe Hogwarts was safe anymore.


	11. 1995 - 3

Katharine spent a quiet, calm Hogwarts Christmas with Violet. Fred and George had said they were going to stay, but because of their father’s attack, they had to go back to headquarters.   
The two sisters ate their meals together and spent most of their time in the Slytherin commons. Violet had not seen Katharine glowering at passerby's when they decided to sneer and open their mouth for an insult in the Slytherin common room, always either deep in thought or chatting vivaciously. Katharine wanted at least one person to know who she was and to not have scary be the second thing out of their mouth. Violet was that person.   
Fred sent letters almost everyday, running Rutherford rather cross with Katharine. He retaliated the day before Christmas, biting Katharine's finger when she tried to tie the letter around his foot. She hoped that the spot of blood wasn’t too alarming.   
On Christmas, Violet bounded into the Slytherin common room, telling Katharine very excitedly about the presents she had received. Katharine smiled curtly and nodded, watching Violet show her the specially wrapped presents from their mother. It had become evident that her parents had decided Katharine had made a decision, because she didn’t receive any shiny packages from their mother that day. 

“My family has disowned me,” Katharine said abruptly, the night before term began, sitting in Dumbledore’s office, “I have nowhere to go after school.”   
Katharine avoided Dumbledore’s eye as he moved the parchment with a scrawled plan on it. He took off his glasses.   
“Do you know this information for sure?” Dumbledore spoke, after a few minutes of reflection. Violet had worn the glimmering butterfly clip her mother had gifted her today.   
“Yes.”   
“You’ve told Violet?” Katharine sunk her shoulders. Dumbledore had given her instructions to tell Violet everything before break, but she hadn’t. She had wanted to savor whatever time she had left with her sister as she was before the war broke them.   
“No.” 

That very night, Violet’s shocked face reflected in the green fire flickering before them. Emilia had returned early, and was now curled up beside Violet, a supportive arm around her.   
“And...Y-you’re sure?”   
Katharine almost didn’t want to answer. Violet looked like she’d never seen her before. Her face was sunken in, her eyes flickering around the room, almost searching for an escape from her own life. Katharine could see years of confusion, frustration, and loneliness begin to come together behind her eyes.   
“Dumbledore has devised a plan-”   
“Is this why you took me to Grimmauld place? They were going to kill me?” Violet questioned, face turning horrified, her lip beginning to tremble. Katharine looked away, paper shaking in her hand.   
“Yes.” Emilia said, her eyes dimming with pity. She had risen where Katharine had faltered. Over the holidays, her hair became a deep shade of red, almost competing with all the Weasley’s altogether.   
“So, to them, Hufflepuff, equals, family embarrassment, equals, murder.” Violet swallowed dryly, her eyes now glued to the fireplace. Katharine wanted to hide in a hole.   
“You’re not going to die, Violet. I’m not going to let that happen.” Katharine said, her eyes slowly rising back up to look at Violet. In a swish of her skirt, Violet ripped the butterfly clips out of her hair, and threw them into the fire. It sprang to life, and Katharine immediately dimmed it to a bare ember. Violet turned on her heels, looking at Katherine with her eyes widened.   
“The fire before was dark magic. You’ve used dark magic.” Violet whispered, her eyes becoming glassy and faraway. Katharine looked away, wringing her hands almost painfully.   
“She got rid of it.” Emilia said, sitting up, watching as Violet leapt out of the Slytherin common room as if it was burning her to remain there. 

“Wow. Wasn’t expecting that.” For the fifth time in two months, Katharine told Fred about what had happened. Although, like George, she made sure to not mention that she’d already made a decision. She’d already chosen Fred.   
They were sitting in the alcove, the window was half filled with sloshed snow. Due to increased security from Umbridge, Katharine held her invisibility cloak so tightly in her hand Fred thought she might rip it.   
“She’s avoiding me.”   
“Well, her life did just get toppled over in one night,” Fred said, trying to comfort her, but his words failed when Katharine trembled and burst into hot tears, “I meant by her parents, Kit! She doesn’t hate you, you’ve been protecting her since third year!”   
Katharine’s head was on Fred’s chest, her tears mixing with the itchy fabric of his sweater. By the time she had composed herself enough to wipe her tears, the snow on the window had partially melted.   
“Enough about me, now. How is your dad?” Katharine said, sliding to sit up a bit, her head now resting against his shoulder, the two of them watching the sunset. Fred audibly sighed, hands rubbing up and down Katharine's arm.   
“He’ll be fine. We’re all concerned for Harry… something about You-Know-Who in his head… Oh! I forgot to show you this!” Fred had rummaged through his pocket and pulled out a parchment full of potential merchandise for their shop. They spent twenty minutes laughing, talking about the jokes, Fred explaining how they work.   
Katharine was now leaning on the opposite side of the alcove, aiming the parchment towards the filtering light of the now set sun.   
“I want you to come live with us,” Fred said suddenly, looking very serious, “Once school is over. George and I decided the other night. We can figure out how to help Violet, but you still need somewhere to stay. So come stay with us.”   
“In the Burrow? I couldn’t-”   
“We bought a storefront in Diagon Alley. There's a flat above it.”   
“Fred…” Katharine was speechless. Fred had always implied that he wanted her to come visit them, but now he was telling her that despite all they’ve been through, he wants her to come live with him and George.   
She surged forward, leaving the parchment behind, and kissed him feverishly. It was quickly returned, and the pair soon fell into a rhythm.   
“Socks sleeps on the couch, though.” Katharine laughed, which sounded more like a hiccup as the tears were still building in her eyes. 

January passed, and Violet continued to keep her distance. Dumbledore didn’t call her to his office anymore, in fact, he was absent from the school altogether more often than he was there. Katharine, having Dumbledore’s word, knew that worrying wasn’t going to help anything, so she let Violet process, alone.   
Katharine spent more and more time with the twins. The three of them, with the occasional visit from Lee Jordan or Emilia, focused on perfecting merchandise, discussing the shop, and avoiding Umbridge. Being a Slytherin, Katharine didn’t risk joining Potter’s club, but Emilia and her did frequently pace the corridor outside during the meetings, making sure no other prefects or professors guessed anything.  
February turned a muddy March, and people began to frequent the grounds much more, enjoying the small sliver of sun that overshadowed the clouds. Umbridge was getting worse, and Katharine could barely walk the halls with the twins without them getting a detention for not wearing a tie.   
“It’s bullshit.” Katharine told Emilia, walking through the library. Emilia was searching for a book, a piece of parchment in her hand. Umbridge had confiscated most of the Skiving Snack boxes by now, and had given Katharine an early morning detention on Saturday for talking back (and Katharine suspected, setting fire to a detention slip, but Umbridge had no proof).   
“I’d have to agree.” Emilia said, finally coming across the book she needed. They took a seat at a table in the back, avoiding Madam Pince’s stern look. Katharine pulled out her potions homework, with no actual intent on doing it.   
“So...have you...Violet?” Katharine stammered, watching Emilia look over the top of her book with rosy cheeks. Emilia had told Katharine months ago that she, along with the twins, would keep an eye on her, and hopefully, get her to speak to her. Up until last time Katharine asked, she had had no luck. Emilia put her book down, her hands folded against her chest.   
“She asked me for help in Potions. I assume she’s having trouble studying for her OWLS. Every time we meet, we focus on potions. When we finish, she’s gone before I even have time to pack up.” Katharine faltered at the information. It had been months since she told Violet about her family, and she was beginning to worry that even if Violet was safe, she would never speak to Katharine again.   
“She’s fifteen, Kat. She’s scared, confused. She’ll come around.” Emilia seemed to sense Katharine’s concern, and reached over to hold her hand. They returned to their homework, and this time, Katharine actually put effort into it.   
As she was reviewing her now finished essay, there was a whispered argument that they couldn’t see a few rows ahead, and George appeared, breathless, and a little wet, turning the corner, followed by an angry Madam Pince.   
“Kat, come with me.” He said, voice a little high and louder than normal. Katharine looked confused, and slowly began to pack her things, until George made a motion to hurry up, and the three of them took off from the library at once.   
George was practically running down the hallways, pushing past first years and professors in a rush to get somewhere. Every once and awhile, he would look back at them, but would turn away every time Katharine went to ask a question. They turned a corner, and were in front of the infirmary wing.   
When the doors pushed open, Katharine immediately spotted Fred, soaking wet, with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He was standing outside of a bed that had the curtain drawn around it. He looked thoroughly shaken, eyes wide as Katharine approached him.   
“What is it? What happened?” At her voice, Dumbledore came out from behind the curtain, leaving it drawn. She could hear faint sniffles from behind it.   
“Miss Silverwood-”   
“Who is that? Fred, who is that?” Katharine was staring at Fred, who still had droplets of water dripping down his face. She couldn’t tell if they were tears, or saltwater. There was a small puddle around his ankles, his robes soaked down. The curtain drew back once more, and this time Madam Pomfrey came out, her own eyes puffy.   
Nobody spoke as Emilia, weaving past the professors and Fred, stepped behind the curtain. Katharine could hear her gasp, and heard her knees hit the floor. Katharine didn’t look away from Fred, who was still staring at her with glassy eyes.   
Katharine swallowed something hard at the base of her throat. Her head was dizzy, and nobody seemed to be able to stand still. She turned to Dumbledore, who had a reassuring hand on Madam Pomfrey’s shoulder.  
“Is she dead, Professor?” From behind the curtain, Emilia let out another loud, curdling sob. George disappeared behind it, obviously moving to comfort her.   
“Yes, she is gone.”   
Katharine turned, and vomited all over the pristine, glassy floor. Madam Pomfrey gasped, moving immediately to grab her a bowl, and clean it up. George and Emilia came out, both looking puffy as they watched with shock as Katharine upended her entire lunch into the bowl.   
She abandoned the bowl when Professor Snape came into the infirmary wing, holding a small vial in his hand, but Dumbledore rushed over to stop him. She stood, knees weak, and pushed the curtains fully open.   
Violet was covered by the white blanket, the only thing let Katharine know it was her was the wet, dark blonde hair that was splayed on the now soaked pillow. It seemed like there was a struggle to save her, as a few bottles of unknown potions sat on the bedside table. Emilia was still crying, now holding onto George, getting his Gryffindor sweater wet. Fred squeaked as he shuffled closer to Katharine.   
She looked up at him, her cheeks already wet from tears, and saw that he was holding out something in his open palm. It was flowers, obviously a bit flattened, but still, the weeds that Violet loved to collect at home. She had been ecstatic the day in her first year when she discovered that they grew down by the Black Lake, and had spent all day telling Katharine about their benefits. Now, they were smashed, and of no use to anybody.   
“She..She was in the Black Lake…” Fred mumbled, the blanket beginning to fall from his shoulders. Katharine turned back to Violet’s body, now holding the flowers in her clenched hand.   
She could hear more Professors whispering outside of the curtain, more crying, and heavy footsteps. The four of them were sitting around Violet’s body, none of them crying, none of them talking.   
Madam Pomfrey gave Fred something to help with the cold, and disappeared again. They sat there, for who knows how long, before Dumbledore announced to Katharine that her parents had been alerted, and were on their way. Katharine didn’t acknowledge this information, but Emilia did walk away, and could be heard whispering in an angry tone. Katharine dropped her head down, tears falling onto her folded hands.   
“They caused it! You should be throwing them in Azkaban- She’s dead, Professor Umbridge!” Bits of Emilia’s cries could be heard, and Fred shifted uncomfortably in his chair.   
“He’s not back!” Professor Umbridge screeched so loudly that George got up in a huff, and also pushed past the curtain. Katharine sniffled, and reached out shakily to pull back the blanket, revealing Violet’s pale, white face. Her lips were blue, eyes closed. Katharine let out of a hiccuped yelp, and leaned her head over the edge of the bed.   
Her hands were rubbing her eyes as she sobbed, moaning quietly, trying to drown out the arguments, so much so that Fred cast a muffling spell. He never moved, he sat with his hands folded, eyes closed, still wet.


	12. 1995 - 4

“What are you doing here?” Every eye in the potions classroom turned towards Katharine, who was suddenly approached by Snape.   
“I’m here to learn about potions, Professor. Is that too much to ask for?” Katharine replied, her voice scratchy and low. Her face was pale, but the expression she had was one of daring anybody to test her. Her tie was undone, and her hair messy.   
“Surely you are...busy.” Snape replied, glaring at the other students as they hurriedly turned back to their potions. Just the day before, Katharine’s parents arrived, retrieved Violet’s body, and left Katharine screaming in a crowded corridor. She curled his lip at him, and looked back down at her book. Emilia was avoiding the entire argument, her eyes red and puffy as she stirred absentmindedly.   
Every Slytherin had been there when Katharine stormed into the common room and pulled her wand on Draco Malfoy, which resulted in a mostly one-way physical fight. It took three seventh years to pull her off of him, and all of her roommates to get her back into their dormitory. Now, she sat in potions class, a little less than ten hours later.   
Professor Mcgonagall called Katharine back after transfiguration. The last class of the day, transfiguration was only Slytherins, and had remained the first silent class they'd ever had. All day, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs alike had been leaning over to pester Emilia or Katharine. There had almost been an uprising at lunch when Fred and George wouldn’t give a few second years order forms for Skiving Snack boxes. Ron had thrown a jinx at them, but a silver plate caused it to backfire and hit Ginny in the face. Katharine had been throwing up in a bathroom, accompanied by Emilia, and Hermione, who had seen them run in at the last minute.   
“I was surprised to hear this morning that you were attending classes. Why have you not left with your parents? I’m very sure we could schedule your exams at a later date, if it is necessary-”   
“I’ve been disowned, Professor. My parents have expressed their wishes to have me not come home.” Katharine interrupted, clutching her bag so tightly that her hand became white. Professor Mcgonagall recoiled in shock, and pursed her lips.   
“Would you like a cup of tea, Katharine?”   
The day after Violet’s untimely death became a long one when Katharine was asked to Dumbledore’s office at half past eleven. Emilia had pressed her want to come with her, but Katharine just shot her a look and left the dungeons without a second thought, still clad in her school robes as she had thought to spend most of her time after dinner in the common room, pouring over the potions homework Snape had reluctantly given them. Eyes nervously watched her every move, whispering amongst themselves, but not daring to raise the level of sound below a scratch.   
Professor Snape met her at the stairwell to Dumbledore’s office. He mumbled a password, and ascended the steps, Katharine trailing behind. When the door creaked open, Snape stood to the side, revealing Mrs. Weasley, leaning over George, who was sitting at Dumbledore’s desk, next to Fred. Everyone in the room turned to Katharine, Dumbledore by the window with Mr. Weasley, both of the twins, and Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasleys eyes looked pink and puffy, and George had tears on his cheeks, his mother's hand still caressing his hair.   
“Ah, Miss Silverwood.” Dumbledore started, walking over to the desk where Mrs. Weasley had departed from, coming to embrace Katharine in a bone-crushing hug that was not returned. Katharine had never felt more uncomfortable, her veins icy as Mrs. Weasley held her, unmoving. Her own mother had always been standoffish, cold, bony, and now Mrs. Weasley was showing her the affection she had needed from a mother figure for seventeen years, with one hug.   
“Oh dear, have you been eating? This is just horrid… Here, I brought a mince pie… Fred dear, pull up a chair…” Mrs. Weasley rambled, leaving Katharine standing there in the doorway alone once more, to unwrap the food she had brought. By their things, Katharine could see a trunk with a yellow drape on top of it, a few stains, a few pressed flowers glued to it. It was Violet’s. Dumbledore, who had followed her gaze, stepped in front of it.   
Once Katharine was seated, in between Fred and George, with a mince pie in her cold hands, did Dumbledore take a seat, flanked by the Weasleys. Professor Snape was standing in the corner, brooding.   
“Katharine, Professor Mcgonagall has taken the liberty to send an owl to the Weasleys about your situation, and they have offered an adequate solution you might be interested in.” Mrs. Weasley smiled softly, her eyes twinkling in the light. Katharine's fingers tightened around the mince pie, although she could feel George try to pry them off to hold his own. Fred remained unmoving.   
“Dear, we want you to come stay at the Burrow with us, until you can land on your feet. Or you could stay with Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, dare I say Sirius-”   
“Thank you, Molly. Let us not overwhelm her, I think.” Dumbledore cut in, turning back to Katharine, who had gone very pale. Fred had taken the mince pie from her as it was slipping away towards the ground. He put it on the desk, and returned his hands to his lap.   
“What about my exams?” Katharine mumbled, barely over a whisper. The three adults across the desk tilted forward, unhearing what she said.   
“She said, what about her exams.” Fred clarified, and Katharine turned to look at him gratefully, catching his gaze. He looked as tired as she’d ever seen him.   
“Oh, there will be no need to worry about that. If it is so much of a deal, you can always take them at a later date.”   
“Do I...have a choice?” Katharine asked, voice louder now, as she slid hand into Fred’s open palm. She thought back to Emilia, probably still sitting in the common room, waiting for Katharine to return.   
“Yes, of course, but due to...circumstances, I would highly suggest this plan of action rather than staying at Hogwarts.” Dumbledore was black, a switch Katharine had never seen from his usual light colored robes. Fred and George had seen it once before, after Cedric's death.   
“Are they coming?” Katharine looked at Fred again, and then George, who was stoic, watching a painting of a previous headmaster now, who was sleeping.   
“No, no. These two need to finish school. Then they will join us at the Burrow.” Mrs. Weasley interjected, not catching the sheepish red tint on both of the twins cheeks as she spoke. Katharine knew about their joke shop, about them planning on moving out. There was a furniture catalog pushed into Katharine’s trunk, with a few couches circled with a quill. What Mrs. Weasley didn’t know right now wouldn’t hurt her.   
Katharine would have to endure a few months of what would possibly be the worst in her life without the twins. She could only assume that was what they were discussing before Katharine came in, judging by George’s lasting flared cheeks, and his scrunched mouth. Katharine would’ve thought it humorous, in any other situation, to see Fred and George completely adopt the opposite personality. Fred remained quiet, clutching to Katharine’s hand like he was afraid she would float away if he let go.   
“Okay.” 

Life at the Burrow was quite different from anything Katharine ever imagined. Hogwarts had been her home for a number of years, but it was nothing compared to experiencing the Burrow. At the Silverwood Manor, everything was always clean, nothing anywhere to suggest that people live there. The doors to the girls bedrooms were always shut tightly, because in there, there was evidence of livelihood. In the Burrow, it was obvious by the worn wood and portraits everywhere of smiling faces that a family lived there. In Katharine's opinion, The Weasley’s had much more than she could’ve ever had with her own family: love.   
She’d been ushered into Charlies old room, on the third floor. Other than the Quidditch and magical creature posters, the room was bare, the way Charlie obviously left it before moving to Romania. Katharine spent the first few days sleeping all day and staying up all night. The Weasleys, ever kind, left her to herself, watching from a distance as she joined them for dinner a few times, her eyes puffy with sleep and lips pursed tightly as she poked at her food with her fork, unable to get a few bites down before feeling the urge to vomit again.   
The day of the funeral, Katharine was awake at six, watching the sunrise from Charlie's window. Her trunk was open, clothes and belongings strewn on the floor, a few unopened letters by the door. Katharine was holding her invisibility cloak, absentmindedly stroking a purring Socks, who sat curled up in her lap. As the sun rose, orange and yellows mixing in the sky, Katharine knew what the day would be like for her.   
By eight, she was dressed and downstairs, staring down at a piece of toast that Mrs. Weasley had given her. The table rattled as her leg shook up and down, hands gripping her cup of tea. She watched the clock on the wall, adorned with all of Weasley's faces, even though it wouldn’t tell her the time.   
“Dear, are you feeling alright?” Mrs. Weasley asked, returning from the garden after feeding the chickens scraps. She looked worried, watching Katharine swallow some tea slowly and nod. Mrs. Weasley sat down across from her.   
“If you’re going to go to the funeral- Dear, I know- at least let Tonks come along.”   
“Who is Tonks?”   
“I’m Tonks!” A young woman, with bright pink hair and a refreshing smile, came in through the side door, sidestepping a chicken, and almost knocking over a plate on the counter. Katharine blinked, watching Tonks as she accepted a piece of toast from Mrs. Weasley, who had gotten up to fuss over more tea.   
“I don’t think we’ll be very undercover with..” Katharine motioned to her own hair, watching Tonks touch her pink hair. In a sudden moment, she scrunched her face up, and Katharine watched in shock as her hair became a dull brown.   
“You’re a metamorphmagus?” Tonks smiled, and winked. She sat down at the table beside Mrs. Weasley, sipping her tea.   
“The funeral is at eleven.” Katharine said a few minutes later, watching as Mrs. Weasley and Tonks settled into a comfortable conversation. They turned to her, faces confused.   
“How..?”   
“All Silverwood funerals are on Sundays, and are at eleven sharp.” Katharine said, reciting it off the top of her memory. She could vividly remember her grandmother's funeral, the itchy dress robes, her mother's tight grip on her arm after she almost spilled elf wine all over her uncle.   
Katharine and Tonks found themselves in the Leaky Cauldron at ten-thirty, having a pint in the corner booth.   
“The twins talked you up quite a bit when I saw them over breaks, you know. ‘Oh, Katharine would do this that way, or Katharine would say this.’ It was quite cute, albeit annoying.” Tonks said, earning a slight grin from Katharine over her glass.   
“I’m the keeper of their brain cells.” Katharine replied, watching Tonks laugh and spit out her beer all over the table. She bit back a laugh, watching a few wizards look over at them as Tonks cleaned it up.   
They sat there, in comfortable silence, drinking, until Tonks checked her watch and looked at her pointedly.   
“Are you ready?” Katharine swallowed the lump in her throat. Her invisibility cloak felt like it was burning in her hand as they got up from the table, dropping a few coins for their drinks and headed towards the doors.   
It was raining lightly over the hill, the lake spotted with the impact of the raindrops. It was hot under the invisibility cloak with two people, as they watched, from a distance, as people began to emerge from the manor.   
The Silverwood's formed a small line around the coffin as they walked towards the hill, and down again the other side, to where a hole had already been dug. Katharine wanted to get closer as she saw her father step forward to say something, but Tonks pulled her back, obviously thinking they were close enough.   
They were either just far enough away to not be able to hear anything, or somebody purposefully muffled the scene. Katharine took the time, as her father continued speaking, to look at who was in attendance, as the number of people was small. Her aunt and uncle, their children, her grandmother, looking quite old, and- The Malfoys.   
Katharine felt her blood surge at the sight of them, blonde and tight, standing in the very back. Draco was shaking, his mother's arm tightly around his torso. She wondered if he still had the bruises from where she attacked him, only a week ago now, while he was crying and whining for her to leave him be. She regretted it now, thinking back to when Emilia had written to her to tell her that Draco had a public outbreak after being pestered few too many times about the fight and about Violet. He was just a boy, she knew he was incapable of murder.   
A wreath of flowers was placed on Violet’s casket. Red roses. Violet hated roses, saying such pretty flowers that smelled so good, shouldn’t have been prickly. Katharine and Tonks disapparated before the casket was lowered in the ground.


	13. 1995-6 - 5

Dear Kat,   
As you’ve probably already heard by now, the Eagle has flown the nest. The other one and I have decided it’s time to eat bacon at midnight. Look for the lion over the sunrise in four howls.   
Fred

Katharine was standing in the garden, the sun shining directly towards the patch of flowers she was planting when Rutherford flew down onto her shoulder, clutching the letter.   
“Whose it from?” Tonks was watching from afar, having been nicely prohibited from stepping near the flowers after she accidentally flattened one. It was a sunny Saturday morning in April, the gnomes were beginning to come out for the warmth, yelling at Katharine as they went.   
“Fred.” Katharine replied, shoving the letter into her apron, returning to where she was enchanting the flowers. Mrs. Weasley hurried out the door, whispering to Tonks, who joined her in rushing back into the house. Katharine knew what was happening; it had been happening since Dumbledore disappeared. Members of the order would appear in the fire almost every night, asking for Arthur, or Bill, or Tonks, on the occasion that she was here.   
Alone at last, Katharine sunk down onto her heels, pulling the letter back out and carefully uncrumpling it. They had been sending notes like this for years, having created it in potions after Snape uncovered a particularly incriminating note from George. Katharine couldn’t help but smile, imagining them deliberating in the Gryffindor common room, trying to remember which code was which.   
The letter had arrived rather beaten up when Katharine pulled it from Rutherford, who looked ruffled himself. Whoever had been intercepting letters to the Burrow must’ve been aggravated at the confusing note. Katharine thought of the furniture catalog, still in her trunk. How long would it be until the twins came from Hogwarts? She couldn’t distinctly remember how long four howls was, but she knew it was longer than a week.   
There was a loud crack, and Lupin stepped out of the tall grass, wearing ragged robes. Usually, when he arrived at the Burrow, he was exceedingly nervous, panicked. But today, he looked relaxed, he swung his outer robes over his shoulder, a light smile on his face. Katharine got immediately, still holding the letter, to greet him.   
As he approached the garden surprisingly, Katharine watched, in shock, as the ink from the letter disappeared from the page. Fred must’ve enchanted it to only be read a few times before it faded.   
“Still using that ridiculous code, are you?” Lupin said, looking over at the blank letter as well. Katharine was speechless, flipping the paper over to see if it was there, before she decided to use her wand.   
“It won’t come back. I’ve used that trick a few times myself when I was young. Come on.” Katharine furrowed her eyebrows, now very irritated that she wouldn’t have time to fully decipher the note like the twins had expected.   
She followed Lupin into the Burrow, where Tonks and Mrs. Weasley were now sitting at the kitchen table, having tea.   
“Oh, Remus! I wasn’t expecting you, here, a cuppa, you too, Kat...How about dinner, Tonks? Remus?” Katharine looked down at her watch as she settled into a seat by Tonks. It was almost four. If she was correct, Mr. Weasley would be home in an hour, and Bill was supposed to join them for dinner today.   
“I was supposed to have supper with Sirius tonight but he’s...in a mood.” Lupin clarified, watching Tonks smile over her tea. Mrs. Weasley tutted from the stovetop, shaking her head as two cups of tea floated over to land in front of Lupin and Katharine.   
“How’s the garden, Kat? Any mail?” Mrs. Weasley sat down, and both Tonks and Lupin raised their eyebrows at Katharine, who just smiled and shook her head.   
“It’s very good, I don’t think the gnomes will be too bothersome with Socks around.” Katharine said, grimacing as Mrs. Weasley leaned forward with a wet finger, wiping a swipe of dirt from Katharine’s cheek. The move, ever affectionate and motherly, made Katharine’s cheek flare red.  
The four of them settled into a comfortable conversation as the clock ticked on the wall, and the sun set from the side window behind the sink. The sun had set fully when Mr. Weasley came home, Bill in tow.   
The last few weeks had been full of turmoil and sadness, but Mrs. Weasley had made it her mission to fill Katharine’s days with tasks and activities ever since she got up for breakfast the day of the funeral. She wasn’t allowed to be in the Order, since Mrs. Weasley stood firmly on her decision to disallow her from meetings until Fred and George both returned from school. For the most part, Katharine didn’t mind that badly. Being in the Order meant danger, it meant having to hear about death eaters and murder, and she didn’t think she could stomach it.   
Katharine spent a lot of time, when she wasn’t put to work, thinking about Draco and how he was at the funeral. Even from a distance, she could tell he was crying, her mother having to ground him. She thought about that night in the commons, and then to her rash decision to beat him for the pain she was forced to endure. She knew writing him was a terrible idea, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that with proper guidance, he wouldn’t have to delve into bad territory.   
Violet visited her dreams every night, making it almost impossible to get enough sleep for all the things she was doing during the day. Some days, Mrs. Weasley would peek her head in, and shut the door promptly. Katharine would be left alone all day, the only thing that would come knocking was meals.   
The letters from the twins and Emilia were beginning to pile up until Katharine couldn’t keep up with them. She felt guilty for not giving adequate answers to their never ending questions, but she knew that as long as she was safe, their concern wouldn’t go too far. She couldn’t mention where she was, anything about what her time was like, or anything that might pertain to the Order.   
The frequent visits from Lupin and Tonks helped. Although Tonks was never much help with chores and tasks, she was still good company, always having a good story or joke. Lupin was rather there more for information than a good time.   
All in all, nothing could make Katharine forget the biting ache in her heart from missing Fred. She was so used to having him there always during the school year, and having the knowledge of when she would see him again in the summer to hold her over, but now, it was like the worry and loneliness was beginning to eat away at her. Mrs. Weasley spent quite a lot of time trying to get information about their relationship, but she always dropped it when Katharine shifted uncomfortably around her meals. Just the thought of having to talk about Fred, what he was to her, how much she loved him, how much he loved her, how he was forced to pull her sisters body from the Black Lake where she was floating half-dead across, was nauseating.   
Katharine, for a short period, was worried that their relationship was ruined after Violet’s death. She had thought that her family had succeeded in tearing everything she loved away from her; it antagonized her night and day until Fred sent a long, three page letter enclosing every single thing that he loved about her, and had run out of space.   
“Are you all right, Kat? Seconds?” Katharine shook out of her deep thought, seeing Tonks and Mrs. Weasley clearing dinner. A half-empty glass of wine sat in front of her, and Lupin was looking worriedly at her from across the table. She smiled tightly, and raised her glass to her lips.   
“As I was saying, Remus, we have to be excruciatingly careful now… any day the ministry could flip..” Arthur spoke in a hushed tone at the end of the table, bent over with Bill and Lupin. Katharine got up to help with dishes after Tonks dropped a mug onto the floor, sending pieces sprawling.   
When the dishes were done and tea passed around, Katharine sat back down, staring at the clock again. Fred’s hand was stuck firmly on Lost, until it spun around to School. Ginny spun from Quidditch to School.   
“Katharine, we’ve discovered some information you might be...interested in.” Lupin said, making Katharine turn away from the clock to look at him. The table was silent, Mrs. Weasley looked grim.   
“Yes?” Katharine replied, gripping her hot cup of tea too tightly, almost burning her hand. Lupin cleared his throat, and slid a sealed letter across to her.   
“We’ve located your aunt. We wanted to find her before… well, that’s not important.”   
“Dead or alive?” Katharine was opening the letter, a photo dropping out of a small cottage. A woman, tall and thin, with grainy blonde hair stepped out, and waved.   
“Alive.” 

For several days, Katharine spent most of her time badgering Lupin for information on her aunt, examining photos she had gathered, and writing down important stories to make it make sense. There was no logical way that Cheyenne Griffis was still alive. Like Lupin said, they were trying to find her before the death eaters did, and the fact that they did was shocking to everyone. Ever since her mother told her about Cheyenne, Katharine had pieced the little information she had to form the one outcome: Cheyenne was dead.   
Nobody expected her to be living in France, hiding out in a small cottage with a dog as all she had. According to Lupin, she didn’t want to leave, either. Despite being told about Katharine and Violet, about Violet’s death, about Katharine's estrangement and her own sisters descent into darkness, she out rightly refused to help. Now, the Order wanted Katharine to go and convince her.   
“I won’t go without the twins. You said it yourself, Mrs. Weasley, I’m not ready.” They were sitting in 12 Grimmauld Place, with almost half of the Order gathered around Katharine. Mrs. Weasley was the only member to firmly state that Katharine shouldn’t be going to see her.   
They didn’t arrive back at the Burrow until late. Katharine had not budged on her decision, arguing until the Order members grew tired of the debate and ended the meeting. Now, all Katharine wanted to do was drink. So, after Mr. and Mrs. Weasley went up to bed, her and Bill, who was spending the night, opened a bottle of fire whisky and sat by the fire.   
“I knew a Slytherin like you, before. Vicious, but loyal. Smart, in more ways than one. You almost gave half of the Order a conniption and I'm sure you don’t even regret it.” Katharine laughed over her glass, leaning back against the chair.   
“I regret very little that I’ve done in my life.” Katharine was brought back to her interactions with Draco. Her last Christmas with Violet, to Fred in fifth year.   
“Fred and George said that. Headstrong, scary, better at pranking than them, which I find hard to believe,” Katharine smiled over at the fire, “You don’t seem too scary to me.”   
“The country made me soft.” 

Katharine was right about the country making her soft; her dark Slytherin robes and forest green sweaters were exchanged for flowy white dresses, overalls, and hand me down robes that were brightly colored. No more were the days of people avoiding her because of her last name or blaming her first for a prank gone wrong. She was free to do what she wanted, without prejudice standing in the way. She’d cut her hair again, this time, having Mrs. Weasley do it. It came to just below her shoulders.  
Easter came with warm sun and healing for Katharine. She spent so much time thinking about what she would say to her aunt that she could barely count the days as they passed quickly.   
A large Easter egg, the size of Harry’s golden egg the year past, was waiting for Katharine when she sat down for breakfast the morning of Easter. Mrs. Weasley had been so busy being angry at the twins for their stunt the past few weeks that Katharine was shocked to see the size of it.   
The week next, Katharine woke up to ear-splitting screeching from the kitchen. Rushing down the stairs, still in her pajamas, holding her wand up, she found Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, screaming at nothing, a letter open and thrown on the kitchen table.   
“Did you know?” Mrs. Weasley screeched, her face soft so that Katharine knew that she wasn’t angry at her. Katharine raised an eyebrow, and picked up the letter.   
“Oh, wow. Wow, that’s bad! Blimey, I didn’t know they had it in them.” Katharine announced, making Bill spit out his tea in laughter.   
Katharine kept her distance for two weeks after the twins dropped out of school. Mrs. Weasley was seething around every corner, and it was getting harder and harder to avoid questions that Katharine couldn’t lie about. As much as she longed to go to Diagon Alley, to see Fred, she knew the plan. Mrs. Weasley would reap their souls if she got up and left just any day with no reasoning.   
As the days were becoming longer and hotter, the twins finally made their entrance back into her life.


	14. 1995-6 - 6

The first sign of the twins was a chocolate bar secured to Rutherford’s leg one May morning. It was still quite chilly for Spring, and Katharine had several blankets layered atop the bed so she could keep the window open for Rutherford, who got angsty and peckish when kept up for too long. There was no note with the chocolate bar, but Katharine didn’t need a note to know who it was from.   
Dressing quickly, she was almost disappointed when she came downstairs to find that the twins weren’t there. She knew, deep down, that they would never just pop up like that, not risking giving Molly a hernia and their untimely deaths all in one. It was a quiet Sunday, and Katharine was left on her lonesome by noon when the Weasley’s left for an Order meeting. They had taken to leaving her behind, not out of malice, but because Kreacher had found out who she was, and had taken to yelling at her for being a blood traitor, kicking and screaming until Sirius sent him away.   
She opened the chocolate bar once she finished weeding the flowers in the garden, settling down at the table to write a letter to Emilia. As she opened the wrapper, unpeeling to reveal the chocolate, there was a loud snap outside, and the front door slammed open. Katharine, who was already on her feet, wand at the ready, dropped it in shock.   
“Took you long enough, didn’t it?” George said, coming into the kitchen for Katharine’s cup of tea, which was going cold on the counter. Katharine jumped him suddenly, just before he could reach the tea, trapping him in a tight bear hug, ecstatic to see him. He returned the hug, laughing lightly.   
“Where’s Fred?” She said, still looking at him in shock. If Katharine was an unknowing bystander, she wouldn’t know who came from a rich family and who came from a poor family. His red hair was slicked away from his face, deep blue robes complimenting his eyes nicely. Katharine, on the other hand, was dirty from gardening, wearing old jeans, and Fred’s t-shirt she found while scavenging their room one night.   
“Diversion at 12 Grimmauld. He should be here soon. Can I have some?” Katharine nodded, looking out the window, knowing he was talking about the chocolate bar. It was sunny, with bright blue skies, when Fred finally apparated in the yard, looking as well kept as George had. Katharine opened the door with a big swing, and was in his arms before he could register his surroundings.   
“Molly’s going to kill you.” She said, words stifled by his thick robes as she dropped her head on his chest. It had been so long, she’d forgotten what he smelled like. Cinnamon, firewood, and...a new whiff of chamomile tea. They stood in the garden, clutching to each other like he’d just come back from the war after twenty years. They almost didn’t notice when the Weasley’s, including Bill, apparated into the yard.   
And thus, began the all night affair of Molly and Arthur taking turns screaming at the twins. It carried on through tea time, through dinner, through dessert. Everyone was pale in the face by the time Molly shooed them off to bed, still red and fists still clenched. Bill was out the door before they were halfway up the staircase.   
“This is almost as bad as when we almost made Ron do that unbreakable vow. No, it’s worse.” They were sitting in Charlie’s room, Fred leaning over the open window with an extendable ear, trying to hear fragments of their parents' argument below. George and Katharine were sitting on the bed, looking through the furniture catalog that had been neglected for too long.   
“It’ll be fine. It’s not like we did anything wrong.” George said, pointing for Katharine to circle a dinner table. Fred pulled the ear back up into the bedroom, collapsing on the other side of Katharine, his head falling onto her shoulder.   
“Are you kidding me? You two wreaked havoc at Hogwarts, then took off on brooms, subsequently dropping out. Then, you buy a shop in Diagon Alley and you won’t tell them where you got the money from. Frankly, I’m jealous that they still love you. I got disowned for, basically, nothing.” Both of the twins bristled, and sat up on the bed. Katharine closed the catalog, the night air breezing across them lightly. She could see Rutherford flying in the outline of the full moon.   
“How are you doing, with that all… stuff?” George asked awkwardly, looking down at his hands, while Fred looked at Katharine almost expectantly. She smiled at him, a finger touching his chin lightly. In that moment, Fred took in just how much she’d changed in such a short amount of time. She wasn’t the bristly, wild girl they’d known before. It was almost like she aged beyond years they could ever imagine. Her hair was short, untidy, and lightening from all the time she spent in the sun. her cheeks were rosy from love, but her eyes were the same. Bloodshot, deepset, and a brilliant hazel. Her dimples had disappeared from her cheeks, her lopsided smile offering no backing of true joy. She was still wearing her family crest around her neck, obviously not realizing. He could see the glint of gold behind the neckline of her shirt. She was proudly wearing the necklace he gave her. Fred wondered if he’d ever see the smile he fell in love with ever again.   
“Well, it’s hard, obviously...but i’ll be okay, Georgie. Now, pick out a headboard.” 

“Do you ever think about getting married?” Katharine looked over at Fred, who had agreed to help her weed the flowers and water them. She was dirty as always, her cheeks beginning to brighten from sunburn over the edge of her large brimmed hat. He was squinting in the sun, but he looked deathly serious. Katharine chuckled, turning back to her flowers, which she was enchanting to pollinate more than usual.   
“You’ve just turned eighteen, Fred. I’m still seventeen.” It had been three days since they returned to the Burrow, and they had still not confirmed when they would be going back to Diagon Alley. Molly had taken to assigning them chore after chore, only allowing them inside for meals. Right now, George was slinging gnomes over the fence. Katharine had personally asked for some alone time with Fred in the gardens, and Molly almost fell over, how happy she was to oblige.   
“She likes you. Probably more than George and I. I think we should.”   
“Your mother likes me, so let’s get married? Fred, we’re too young.”   
“Harry’s parents were young.”   
“Not the best comparison, Freddie.”  
“Come on, Kit… Doesn’t the urgency of violence and danger just make you want to jump my bones and finally get hitched?” He was sitting back on his heels now, completely abandoning his previous task. If Katharine hadn’t been wearing a hat, he could’ve seen her deep red cheeks, and sly smile.   
“I love you, Fred, but don’t push it.” she leaned over to kiss him, her hat hitting his forehead lightly. She went back to pulling out weeds, abandoning the conversation without a second thought.   
Mrs. Weasley's anger seemed to subside to a small bubbling irritation come dinner that same day, when Tonks and Lupin both joined them.   
“You look happy, Kat. What's changed?” Tonks said, setting the table sloppily, Katharine following her to rearrange her mistakes. The twins had not come down from their bedroom yet, having received a large shipment of merchandise, which they were organizing. That sent Mrs. Weasley into a flurry, seeming to realize that they actually had a real life business.   
“Her chap’s returned from overseas, you see, he was fighting under the vicious Umbridge. But he’s free now.” George said, a lazy arm swinging across Katharine’s shoulder, watching Tonks face erupt in brilliant shock and amazement, dropping a fork onto Socks, who gave her a disdainful look and ran away.   
“Fred! Wow, I was wondering where you too ran off to, I'm surprised Molly hasn’t killed you!” George let a small smile pull on his lips, his arm still around Katharine’s shoulder. A part of her wanted to shake it off, tell Tonks it was George, but she played along, not having done this dance in a long while.   
“We’re safe yet. Dear, pass the knives? I’ll help.” For a twin, Katharine cringed at how badly George played the part of his brother. If they were at Hogwarts, or in the company of anybody other than Tonks, he would’ve been found out in less than a minute. Fred did call her dear, but enjoyed Kit more. Also, Fred would never set the table willingly. Tonks eyed him suspiciously, but shook it off as Katharine handed him a pile of knives.   
“Ah, good, dinnertime?” Fred came in, a hand rubbing some sort of cream on his cheek. When he moved it, Katharine could see the makings of a bruise disappear.   
“George! Good to see you, mate!” Tonks said, patting Fred on the shoulder as she passed him, missing George and Katharine’s swift grin, watching Fred slowly melt into the role. When Tonks left the room, leaving the three of them alone, Mrs. Weasley outside tending to the chickens, Mr. Weasley, Remus and Tonks in the living room.   
“Was that a bruise before?” Katharine said, running her thumb across Fred’s cheek, sitting back in her chair, accepting the cup of tea George handed her.   
“Oh, that? Yeah. A new trick. Only way the bruise fades is with a cream. We aren’t totally finished tinkering with it just yet.” Mrs. Weasley came back into the kitchen, and Katharine quickly pulled her hand away from where Fred was holding it, like they had just been caught in the act. Yet, Mrs. Weasley didn’t even notice, too busy shooing George away from the stovetop, muttering about dinner taking too long.   
Dinner was much different from before the twins came home. There was more laughter, less leftovers, and more wine being poured. By the time Katharine was pleasantly full and pink from wine, she was leaned over her own chair and into Fred’s shoulder, his arm on the back of her chair, playing with some of her hair. Tonks looked quite confused, and Katharine was almost surprised how slowly she figured it out.  
“Oh, you tricked me!” She yelled, hands finding her face in embarrassment as the twins and Katharine all burst into laughter, residing to small giggles as Tonks told the story to the rest of the table.   
“It was just too easy, Tonks. I thought we were done for when George offered to set the table.” Katharine said, reaching for her glass of wine, watching George nod in the corner of her eye.   
They laughed for a while, Mrs. Weasley getting up to clear the table, refusing help from Katharine, her eyebrows furrowed. Katharine sighed, sitting up, almost knowing what was going to happen. Lupin looked uncomfortable, and Tonks fidgeted slightly.   
“What is it?” Fred said, sitting up as well, his eyebrows furrowed exactly like his mother’s, looking from his father, to Lupin, to Katharine.   
“Lupin found my aunt.”   
“Cheyenne?” George said, leaning forward, setting down his own glass of wine. Mrs. Weasley furiously washed the dishes by hand, shaking her head.   
“Yes. In France. And we want Katharine to go meet her, but she refused to go without you two.” Lupin said, twiddling his hands, ignoring his cup of tea that Tonks pushed around nervously. Fred sat back, a look of intense thought on his face. George still looked confused, turning to Katharine with the same look of desperation she’d seen plenty of times before. Katharine explained everything to him. When she was done, he mimicked Fred’s expression unknowingly.  
“You need to do it sooner, rather than later. She needs to go into hiding before Imogene figures it out. We’ve sent her on a rather long spiral of false information, but he got a hold of a letter in the ministry. It’s only a matter of time.” Katharine could feel her blood freeze at her mother's name. She knew that when Lupin said He, he meant her father. She almost couldn’t believe he was still a free man, working for the ministry.   
“She hid for the better of eighteen years. I think she’ll be fine,” Katharine said, crossing her arms over her chest, leaning back in her chair, “I don’t think Mother would hurt her.”   
Fred scoffed from beside her. Katharine knew the hypocrisy of her words was almost painful. She was so adamant of avoiding her aunt that she almost wished they would just leave the conversation where it was and go to bed.   
“I have no doubt that your mother would want to protect her. I can’t say the same for your father, for You-Know-Who. And, not to mention, after Vi-”   
“Don’t say her name!” Katharine bellowed, her cheeks red, a fist banging onto the table, making everybody lean back in surprise, hands lifting from the table. She was shaking, teeth gritted, staring at Lupin. Fred was the first to move, sliding a hand under her arm, pulling her up slowly.   
“Come on, let’s go to the garden.” He whispered, giving Lupin a pointed look as he led her out the door.   
Katharine immediately separated from him when the door shut. She sat down on the nearby bench, leaning over, hands rubbing at her eyes. They’d talked about Violet before, they’d mourned her, discussed her death. But tonight, when Lupin began to say her name, Katharine went back to that day, to Fred dripping wet, shivering in front of the pulled curtain. She went back to Draco’s bloody face and tears. George Red faced with his mother in Dumbledore’s office.   
“I don’t know why I did that.” Katharine mumbled, feeling Fred take a seat next to her on the bench. His posture reminded Katharine of that day even more. She looked over at the windows, kitchen light bathing the grass in a yellow gloom. She could hear short whispers and chairs shuffling.   
“First time Neville said her name at Hogwarts since, I almost beat him up. Don’t know why either. I would’ve, too, if we weren’t at lunch.” Katharine remained silent. She stared at the house, watching a light go on in Fred and George’s room. She could hear Tonks and Lupin use the Floo Powder. Mrs. Weasley peeked her head out, and quickly shut the door when she met Katharine’s gaze.   
“I haven’t had a nightmare since you came back.” Katharine said, almost to herself, in a low voice. Fred wrapped an arm around her waist, the other round her front, his chin resting on her shoulder.   
“Me neither.” 

“Now, remember, she will resort to being hostile, so identify yourselves immediately.” Katharine, Fred and George gathered a portkey, set to leave in four minutes. Fred and George were wearing matching blue traveling robes, and Katharine was wearing Cheyenne’s old robes.   
It had been a week since Katharine agreed to go see Cheyenne. Lupin had sent her an owl, and received no response back from Cheyenne, but assured Katharine that she knew she was coming. By the table in the Burrow, were Katharine’s things, packed suitcases and her trunk. Katharine didn’t know which she was most nervous about, moving in with the twins or seeing Cheyenne.   
“Alright, be careful, be safe. I love you!” Mrs. Weasley shouted as the three of them disappeared from the garden.   
Fred and George landed on the soft sand, their hands grasping at nothing, coughing. Fred looked up at the bright sunlight, seeing Katharine, robes billowing in the soft breeze, already standing. In the distance, there was a small cottage, no bigger than the shell cottage. There was a small gated garden, filled with sunflowers.   
“Is that it?” George said, standing up, brushing the sand off his robes. They stood silently, still trying to catch their bearings from the portkey, before walking towards the cottage.   
Before Katharine could even make it to the path, the door swung open, and George grunted as he was hit with a swift stunning spell. Katharine barely managed to grab her wand before Cheyenne was pointing her wand at her neck, very similar to Katharine’s own form of intimidation.   
“Wands! Wands, now!” Katharine was shocked, slowly moving her hand down from above her head, putting her wand in her outstretched hand, looking at Fred to do the same, who was still looking at George.   
“Who are you?!” Cheyenne was maybe a few inches taller than Katharine, slim and pale like her mother. Her hair was a bright blonde, pushed back in a lazy braid. Katharine could feel her angry eyes looking down at the robes Katharine was wearing.   
“You know who I am! You know I’m Katharine Silverwood!” Katharine yelled, eyes wide and hands shaking next to her head. Fred moved to help George who was coming to, but Cheyenne pointed her wand at him, in which Katharine slid over in front of him.   
“This is Fred Weasley, that’s George Weasley! They’re the children of Molly and Arthur!” Cheyenne stood, unmoving from her position, for several minutes, before she put her wand down. Katharine sighed of relief, joining Fred in helping George.   
“Why are you here? Why are you wearing my robes?” Cheyenne said, standing in the doorway, watching Katharine look at George, who was holding the back of his head gingerly. Fred was standing next to them, eyeing Cheyenne angrily.   
“I think you gave him a concussion!” Katharien exclaimed, turning to Cheyenne, holding out her hand for her wand.   
“You’ll get it back to when you leave.”   
“But George-”   
Cheyenne flicked her wand at him, and George let out a yelp, holding his forehead, blinking slowly a few times. When they all looked at Cheyenne, she walked inside the cottage, leaving them on the doorstep, looking at the open door expectantly. Fred shrugged, and walked inside.   
Cheyenne was making tea. She had already pulled four white speckled mugs from the cabinet. A dog came over and sniffed at Fred, and settled down by a yellow couch near the fireplace. Over the mantle, were a few pictures. A few redheads popped in and out of the frames, catching the attention of George. Fred stood by Katharine, who had walked into the kitchen, watching Cheyenne closely as she tore open a package of biscuits, placing them on a plate.   
“Put these on the table over there.” She handed the plate to Fred, staring at him pointedly, exactly like Katharine when she was becoming impatient. Reluctantly, he left Katharine and Cheyenne alone in the kitchen.   
“You really do look like your mother.” Katharine looked at the floor. Cheyenne sighed, and walked over to a china cabinet, digging through a drawer, full of pictures and old parchment.   
“You did...know we were coming?” Katharine asked, walking over to the kettle, which was screaming. She flicked the burner off, and began pouring, “George likes sugar in his tea.”   
A cup of sugar floated over to the counter. Cheyenne was still facing the drawer, muttering to herself as Katharine poured enough sugar in George’s, holding it in a separate hand from Fred’s and her own.   
“Go sit down. I’ll be right out.” Cheyenne said, looking over at Katharine, who had just enchanted Fred’s mug to follow her after she almost dropped it on the linoleum. Fred and Georeg were over by the fireplace, holding pictures. Fred came over, a small smile on his face, motioning for the mug to fall onto the table, handing Katharine a small picture frame. It was Molly, Cheyenne and Imogene. They were young, still wearing uniforms, standing in the courtyard.   
“Yes, Molly and I were great friends. Your mother is a wonderful woman.” Cheyenne had come out of the kitchen, holding her own tea and a few pictures. Fred placed it back on the mantle, and took a seat beside Katharine. George took a sip of his tea, and sat down not long after.   
“I did know you were coming. Sorry about the stun. You should be fine now.” She said to Fred, whose cheeks went bright red, lifting his mug up to take a long drink of tea. Never since she’d known them had either Fred or George ever been embarrassed about being confused for the other.   
“Uh, this is Fred. That’s George, he’s the one who got the stun.” George smiled slightly, looking at Fred, who was still hiding behind his tea.   
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Cheyenne said, her cheeks heating up. Katharine smiled reassuringly at her. The cottage was filled with awkward silence until Cheyenne remembered something, and spread the pictures out on the table.   
Placed in front of Katharine, was a picture, edges ripped and faded, of her mother, young and bright, hair straight and down, holding a chubby baby, who was smiling. The baby had a head full of dark hair, which was tied up into a small pouf at the top of her head. They had a candy wand in their chubby fist, and was kicking back and forth in the air, as Imogene laughed. Katharine knew at once it was her. Her heart ached, seeing her mother look so warm, loving, as she leaned over to give the baby a slobbery kiss.   
“No way, is this Bill?” George said, holding the same picture Katharine had that Mrs. Weasley had given her. George reached over to give it to Fred, who laughed, watching baby Bill beam at the camera.   
“Bill was such a good little boy. So cuddly. Molly was so smitten by him.” Cheyenne said, smiling at the picture when Fred put it down. Katharine was still holding the picture of her mother and baby her. Cheyenne looked at it, and then to Katharine.   
“You can keep that, if you want.” Katharine, almost feeling revolted, put the picture down and slid it away from her slowly.   
“I don’t want it.” Fred shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He reached over to grasp Katharine’s hand. The table was once more thrown into silence. Cheyenne cleared her throat, and lifted up the last picture, but did not show any of them.   
“Thank you for showing us these, but you must know why we are really here, don’t you?” Katharine said, watching Cheyenne lower her head. The picture tipped over, and dropped onto the table. Even upside down, Katharine knew it was a picture of her and Violet, sitting under the tree on the hill.   
“They already found me. Imogene was here last week.” Cheyenne said, watching all three of them stand up suddenly, shocked. George began to look for their wands, Fred was shutting the front door, which had been open.   
“What? Are you working for them? Did you lead us straight into a trap?” Katharine yelled, her eyes wild and vicious. Cheyenne shook her head violently, opening the cabinet where their wands were for George.   
“No, no! I made her leave. No one has come since, so I assumed she never told.” She motioned for them to sit again, but they stood there, unmoving. Cheyenne sighed, picking up the picture again.   
“She looked sad, tired. It was almost pitiful, but Remus had already told me what she’d done. She barely got two words in before I was ushering for her to leave and never come back. She left this photo. I think she said your name. I wish I let her speak.”   
Katharine didn’t say anything, just stood by the table looking like Cheyenne had just ruined her life.   
“Your mother, my sister, was a good woman before Edan. He took her away from me. There was no Imogene left after they were married, after I was forced into hiding. Only thing I received was letters and pictures once a year from Remus. I wanted so badly to know you, Katharine, but there was no one left that I could call family.” Cheyenne was crying now, silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. The twins stepped back uneasily, Katharine’s blank look making the situation more uncomfortable as time moved.   
“Was I not family to you? I’m your niece!” Katharine exclaimed, looking more betrayed than angry. Cheyenne looked down at her tea. Katharine bit her lip, rummaging through her bag before pulling out a thick envelope.   
“Here’s all the information about going into hiding. Don’t bother seeking us out, mind you, I’d rather not waste my time again.”   
Katharine was disapparating from the living room, clutching Fred and George to lunge with her, before Cheyenne could respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> repost


	15. 1996 - 1

Nobody mentioned their meeting with Cheyenne after explaining it to the Order. She’d been given her instructions, and there was no need to dwell on the subject, especially since Katharine was seething everytime it even looked like somebody was going to mention it.   
Having moved into the twins flat, Katharine and the boys fell into a steady paced schedule of their day to days. On Mondays, Katharine manned the register downstairs, letting Fred get a well earned break, and on Fridays, she covered for George. Although she didn’t need to, Katharine found a job working for a tea shop a few doors down from the joke shop, settling in nicely to serving tea to all kinds of wizards and witches that came through. She’d become so accustomed to doing things all day everyday at the Burrow, that the thought of spending most of her time in the flat and the joke shop was suffocating.   
“You’re cooking?” Katharine dropped her bag by the chair at the door, pulling off her cloak as she walked over to Fred, who was fretting by the stovetop, a singular pot boiling. It was usually George who cooked, he had picked up a cookbook at Florish and Botts and found that he rather enjoyed it.   
“George is on a date. I was hungry.” Fred responded, looking at Katharine for help, the pot of soup boiling over.   
“You think I’m any better?” Katharine said, smiling, flicking her wand towards the stovetop, shutting it off. Fred turned to her, arms wrapping around her waist. She turned the pot, handle facing inward, and swung her arms around his neck.   
“You’re lucky George told me this morning, and that I brought home sandwiches from the tea shop.” Fred sighed out in relief, head dropping to Katharine’s forehead. She pulled away, pulling to wrapped sandwiches from her bag, coming over to where Fred was already sitting at the table.   
For the most part, Katharine had managed to decorate the apartment to the best of her ability. It wasn’t a big flat, just three rooms; Fred and Katharines, George’s, and the living area. Nonetheless, it reminded Katharine of the Burrow: homey, comforting, and warm.   
“So, what do you want for your birthday, Kit?” Fred asks, mouth full of sandwich, making Katharine cringe, placing her sandwich down, flicking her wand at the teapot to boil.   
“A rock.”   
“Very funny.”   
“I’m serious,” Katharine said in a playful tone, getting up from her chair, sitting down in Fred’s lap, an arm lazily draped across his shoulder. He steadied her with an arm around her waist, raising his eyebrows at her, “I want a true Fred Weasley present, a rock.”   
“I was fifteen.” Fred retorts, rolling his eyes, settling the finished crust of his sandwich down, his hand coming to interlink with his other, around Katharine.   
“It was endearing. Trust me, I loved it, Freddie.”   
George returned home from his date a little after midnight. He was expecting the flat to be quiet, but to his surprise, Katharine was awake, reading a book on the small couch, wrapped in Fred’s robe. The door to their bedroom was shut, Fred obviously sleeping. She looked up at him, cheeks red and lips puffy. She’d must’ve not been sitting there for a while, the tea on the coffee table still steaming hot.   
“How’d it go?” Katharine whispered, still looking down at her book, “How was she?”   
George looked at her, seeing her playful grin, the book now shut as she sat up to pick up her tea. He sighed, shaking his head.   
“Goodnight, perv.” George closed the door to his own bedroom, hearing Katharine's little snigger as he turned on the light. 

Katharine had work on her birthday. Not that she minded much, she was almost glad to have the distraction. Fred and George had offered a vacation, pick up Emilia from the station and go for a weekend. Katharine declined, saying she’d much rather serve tea and make sandwiches, in calm surroundings. Ever since the mishap at the ministry, they were having to spend more time with the order, and she wanted to be in this country if they needed help that weekend. She’d even offered to close for the owner, a middle-aged witch who knew too much about the house of Ravenclaw, but this was declined when she let it slip it was her birthday.   
So, Katharine worked her shift from eight in the morning to six in the evening like usual. Except today, she couldn’t keep her mind off how much her life had changed in the past years. This time last year, she was in a strange state of unconsciousness after Cedric’s death, after she fought her father in Hogwarts. This time last year, Violet was alive. She thought about the small, wrapped box she found on her nightstand a few days after her birthday last year, the small leather backed journal Violet had bought her.   
“It’s to write to Fred. Well, not send him letters, exactly,” Violet had looked over at the window, which was shut tightly, Rutherford flying back and forth pitifully, waiting for it to open, “But to write what you want to tell him until you really can.”   
It was endearing, kind, and painful all at the same time. When Katharine had held that journal for the first time, she didn’t know if Fred would even still love her come September. Violet, ever the optimist, always held the high opinion that Katharine and Fred were meant for each other. She’d even shown Katharine an old muggle book she’d been given by Hermione, about star-crossed lovers.  
“They were meant for each other, star-crossed lovers! I’m sure Trelawney could confirm you guys are meant for each other if you asked.” Violet said, shuffling through the book, squinting at the last few pages.   
“What is it? What happens to these lovers?” Katharine had said, still having trouble sitting up in her bed then. Violet smiled, and shut the book.   
“Well, it is a tragedy. But you two are more of an epic, I’d say.”   
Fred and George came in during her lunch break with a specialty meal sent by Molly. They ate by the window, smiling over their pie, relishing in the quiet day and peaceful tea shop. George got her a Sneakoscope, gold and green. Fred refused to give her his present until that night after the Burrow for dinner and cake.   
It was nearing three when the teashop hit a lull. After the lunch rush, just after the twins left, Katharine was grateful for a mini break. She was stacking teacups in the case when the door whistled, and she heard footsteps.   
“Be with you in a minute!” Katharine said, extending on her tiptoes to retrieve a new teapot from the shelf. She could sense that the customer was standing at the register, but when she turned, she dropped the teapot she’d just gotten, and it shattered across the floor.   
“What are you doing here?” Katharine stood in the puddle of broken glass, her mother looking at her with a mix of concern and sadness. Cheyenne was right: She did look thinner, paler, and more exhausted than ever. Her usually well-kept hair was in disarray, her robes looking rather shabby for her status. She must’ve done it on purpose, to not be noticed in the Alley.   
“I...wanted to see you. On your birthday,” Her mother said, swallowing visibly, her hand coming to rest on the counter, “Please let me help you clean it up. It’s my fault.”   
Katharine recoiled, shaking out of her stupor, and flicked her wand towards the shattered teapot. The pair watched the teapot repair itself in seconds, setting down on the counter, good as new.   
“I don’t want to see you.” Katharine said, picking up the teapot, holding it close to her. She was close to tears, her lip trembling. The last time she’d seen her mother, she was pushing her off of her arm as she followed her husband away from Hogwarts with Violet’s body.   
“Please, Katharine, darling, it’s not my fault. I love you-”   
“I said get out!” Katharine screeched, the tea cups on display in front of her rattled. A kettle in the distance whistled, stopping as the fire rescinded. Imogene took a deep breath, pulling a small parcel from her pocket, placing it on the counter, and left in a flutter. 

The last time somebody sang happy birthday to Katharine over a birthday cake, she had just turned fourteen. Her mother and Violet sat across from her at the small kitchen table, the decadent chocolate cake sitting between them. The house elves sang too, for they liked Katharine. It had been the most lonely birthday Katharine had suffered through up until there, and only went downhill from there.   
“Happy birthday, darling! Fourteen.” Her mother exclaimed, cutting down the center of the cake after Katharine blew out her candles. Violet, chubby cheeked and young, leaned over the table, swiping her finger across where her mother couldn’t see.   
“What’d you wish for, Kat?” Katharine shrugged at her sister's question. The truth had been that Katharine hadn’t wished for anything other than another chocolate bar from Fred Weasley.   
“I hope you like it.” Molly said, leaning over the kitchen counter, doting on Katharine’s birthday cake. She could see the outline of a flower, but Molly pushed her from the view before she could see anymore.   
It was crowded with Ginny and Ron home from school, both settling back in easily. Nobody talked about school, or what happened at the ministry. Neither Lupin or Tonks attended, but that was to be expected. Katharine found a large book on the table that morning, addressed to her, from Tonks. How to Be a Good Auror 301.   
The dinner had been a subdued one, everyone looking rather grim rather than happy. Katharine didn’t mind, though, because it masked her own disappointment from the situation that afternoon. Katharine was certain that Ginny and Ron were very confused by the new dynamics that were built while they were away at school. Molly looked at Katharine like she was her own, baked her a cake, gave her a new scarf for her hair. Not to mention, Ginny had been unknowingly wearing Katharine’s sweater that she found in her laundry that afternoon. To them, Katharine had been the girl dating their brother, who frequented detention and got into rows in the hallways. Katharine was the drunk Slytherin in the Gryffindor common room, making out with Fred. She schemed with George in the courtyard and studied with Lee Jordan and Emilia in the library on Sundays. She was the girl with the dead sister, and now she was one of them, almost.   
“This isn’t mine is it?” Ginny asked, looking at the deep green sweater she was wearing, after Katharine gave her a look of recognition. Katharine smiled, which didn’t meet her eyes. She swirled her glass of wine.   
“Keep it. It was... actually Violet’s.” Katharine swallowed visibly, still trying to grin at Ginny, whose face had plunged into deep horror, but faded quickly at the sharp look from Fred.   
That night, their bed was more inviting than anything Katharine had ever seen in her entire life. Not even taking her robe off, she fell onto it, breathing deeply. In the windowsill, Rutherford hooted happily, flapping his wings and taking off. Fred must’ve opened it for him.  
“At least take your shoes off.” Fred mumbled, but before Katharine could sit up, he was pulling off her shoes for her. Katharine grumbled incoherently, reaching to grab ahold of his pillow, sinking her face into it.   
She heard Fred climb up the bed from the foot, pulling the pillow away from Katharine’s face, so they were looking at each other, both of their eyes lidded in exhaustion. He sighed out, a finger tracing across her cheek.   
“I didn’t really register that Sirius is dead until tonight.” Fred mumbled, his face stoic and red. Katharine reached over to run a hand through his hair, relishing in watching him fall into the pillow, relaxing. As his eyes were closing, they suddenly shot open, like he forgot something.   
“I never gave you your present.” Katharine smiled lopsidedly at him. She pushed her hand through his hair again.   
“Tomorrow.” 

The next morning, Katharine woke up in Fred’s arms, her chest uncomfortably tight. It was early, the sun setting just over the buildings out the window as she dislodged herself from Fred.   
She was still wearing her robes from the night before, dark purple ones she’d bought a few weeks past. She groped her pockets until she felt the small package her mother gave her. As she unwrapped it quietly, taking a seat at the desk, picking up the carefully folded letter atop the present, which was further wrapped. 

Katharine, 

I know you may not ever look at me again, but I feel the need to give you some reasoning. Not to exonerate, to make you see the world as I do. Stubborn, like your father, I know you won’t listen to me if I try to tell you in person. 

Katharine crumpled up the letter before she could read the rest of it, which ended after three pages. She pushed it deep into a drawer, under sketches and prototypes. She put the present, still wrapped, with it.   
Rutherford hooted in the distance, and landed on the windowsill in front of Katharine, a letter tied to his leg. This, she knew, was from Emilia. She’d almost forgotten that she asked her to meet her for tea at some point yesterday. Out in the kitchen, she could hear quiet shuffling, and the sound of the stovetop turning on. Fred stirred, and turned onto his side, facing the wall. 

Kat, 

I would love to get tea with you on Monday. I have a lot of news to tell you! I’ve missed you more than anybody could ever imagine, and I look forward to seeing your ugly face again. 

Best Wishes,   
Your Emilia

Katharine smiled lightly, leaving the letter on the desk to get changed. With a quick glance, she looked out the other window, which overlooked the entrance to the store. There was Draco Malfoy, looking menacingly in the windows, until he looked up, right at the window where Katharine stood. She froze, keeping quiet until he got frustrated, and left.   
George was the Secret Keeper for their location. Draco could see them in the shop, he would never be able to tell where they were living. The question was: what did he want?  
Katharine watched Draco until he disapparated down by Gringotts. She could hear the kettle whistling, and Fred shuffling around in bed. She finished getting dressed, and turned to see that Fred was sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes.   
“How long have you been awake?” Fred mumbled, blinking a few times at the fully dressed Katharine, watching her lace her boots on the edge of the bed.   
“A little while. George is the Secret Keeper for our flat, right?” Katharine responded, sitting up, turning to look at him.   
“Yeah, why? Did something happen?”   
“No, don’t worry about it. I’m going to get breakfast.” 

The only thing different about Emilia than from March was that her hair was pink now, clashing with her bright yellow robes. She looked at Katharine for the first time with the same concerned glint in her eyes as Fred did.   
“So, what's the big news, then?” Katharine said, once they were settled in the tea shop, with free tea from her manager. They had spent over thirty minutes in the joke shop, Emilia catching up with George for a little too long. Emilia took a long sip of her tea, and set it down.   
“Well, I’m moving to France,” Katharine lurched, her eyes wide with surprise, “I’ve been offered a position at a prominent newspaper. I leave with Perry in two weeks.”   
“What, you’re still seeing Perry?” Katharine didn’t know what she was more surprised about, her best friend moving to France, or that she was still seeing the shy prefect who graduated a year before them, one of their favorite Slytherins.   
“Well, we...kind of rekindled after...You know. George was a great help, and all, but he had Angelina, and...I love Perry.” Emilia was blushing so hard that her neck was turning pink. Katharine smiled lightly at her, taking a sip of her tea.   
“So you did have a thing with George, then?” Emilia sputtered, looking shocked, and glowered at her as Katharine laughed.   
“No, I didn’t. In all seriousness, there is something else I need to ask you.” Emilia looked concerned once more, all the fun gone from her face.   
“Alright.”   
“I need you to be my Secret Keeper on my whereabouts. My parents are already in hiding but...I need to do this job. Perry has already found someone.” Katharine’s heart ached. The reason Emilia and her were friends was because Emilia needed some semblance of protection in her first year, since the Slytherins weren’t too keen on a half-blood being in Slytherin with them. It’s why Emilia was mentioned in the letter where Katharine was disowned. Emilia bit her lip as Katharine deliberated for a few moments.   
“Of course, I’ll do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and they were a tragedy :D


	16. 1996 - 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: SUICIDE MENTION !!!!!!

“You really want to get married?”   
Katharine was staring at a goblin made, gold ring, emblazoned by a small cluster of diamonds. They twinkled in the dim light from the bedroom lamp, shadowed by Fred’s head. In a state of shock, she took the box from Fred’s hand, and looked at it closely.   
They sat on the bed together, still flush from their long night with Emilia and George. Katharine could still hear them talking in the kitchen, laughing loudly, reverberated by their door. Before she could help it, Katharine cracked a small smile, which allowed Fred to let out the long breath he’d been holding in his chest.   
“What the hell, am I right?”   
Katharine felt fifteen again in that moment. Nobody else mattered other than Fred, and the ring. He was no longer chasing eternal glory, and they were safe. They were safe. She knew what he was thinking when he said that, when he bought the ring. What the hell, if we’re all gonna die, why not?   
It was getting darker and darker by the day. Shopkeepers were disappearing, more windows broken each morning. Even today, when Emilia asked her to keep her secret of her whereabouts, Katharine could feel the impending doom weighing down on her chest. Violet was already dead, how much more could she bare?   
“Fred, I don’t want you rushing into a marriage that could’ve been panic-induced.”   
“Who says this was a rash decision?”   
“I say! Fred, this is marriage. Marriage is serious. I love you, but we’re still eighteen!”   
“Do you...not want to get married?” Fred had such a pained look on his face, that Katharine regretted ever coming into his life, just to hurt him in that moment.   
“Of course I do! Someday, on a hill, with the wind blowing in your face. I want flowers, and a white dress. Someday, Fred.”  
That seemed to cheer up Fred, just enough to get him to close the ring box. Not today, not tomorrow, but someday. The concern of mortality struck at both of their hearts, curled up together on the bed. With Violet gone, wiped from the world without a second thought, it was hard to make promises of marriage without thinking about when either of them would die. Katharine felt immensely selfish, the guilt washing over every inch of her body. Violet was buried under the dirt of a family that sacrificed her for themselves, and Katharine was in the bed of the one man she would ever truly love, contemplating marrying him. It didn’t seem fair, that she was there, and Violet wasn’t. Katharine had spent so long just trying to protect her, to do right by her, just to have Violet die only weeks after she discovered that her whole life was a lie. She thought of her mother's letter.   
Fred never told her what happened that day at the lake. She’d put two and two together, of course, but neither Fred nor George ever talked about it. They didn’t tell her why Fred was drenched, if she was awake before she died, if she ever said anything. Had she been in-   
“Do you think she was in pain?” Katharine whispers on Fred’s chest. The hand she was holding goes limp slightly, but regains its hold. The kitchen is quiet now, only twenty minutes before the front door opened, and shut.   
“She was unconscious. I don’t think she felt anything.” That was all Katharine needed. In their bed, wound tightly together, they had until forever. 

In wartime, the clocks seemed to spin five times as fast as they do without imminent danger. In just mere months after Emilia left for France, the tea shop was attacked by overzealous death eaters, searching for information on Katharine, who wasn’t working that day. They destroyed the shop, and Katharine’s boss closed the shop for an unknown amount of time, refusing to see Katharine when she showed up a few days later.   
“I’m telling you, Tonks, if you get them to search his manor, you will know that he’s a death eater!” Katharine exclaims, sitting rigidly at the kitchen table, next to Fred. Tonks is pacing by the counter, looking very torn at her words. George places a cup of tea next to Katharine’s tightly wrung hands, and sits down on her opposite side.   
“You three should move somewhere new. It’s not safe here.” Tonks says after a few excruciatingly long moments, causing Katharine to groan and throw her head back in disdain.   
“What about the shop?” George asks, a big hand absentmindedly caressing Socks, who is sitting in his lap.   
“That can stay open. But it’s imperative that you can’t stay here.” Tonks responds, taking a sip of her tea, avoiding Katharine’s accusatory glare.   
“Tonks, my father?” There’s a few moments of silence, before Tonks shifts and stands up straight, placing her mug in the sink.   
“I will look into it, I promise. I’m going to ask Remus to come here tomorrow, he’ll be more than happy to find you a new safe house. I have to go.” With that, Tonks left, leaving the three of them alone in their tiny flat.   
“I think we should go see Mum.” Fred says, trying to catch Katharine’s eye, as she stares at the door, mouth twitching.   
“I agree. Kat? Fancy a visit to see Molly?” Katharine looks towards George finally, and gives him a tight lipped smile. She gets up, hand crossing Fred’s back lightly before she walks towards their shared bedroom and shuts the door.  
“Guess that’s her answer, then.”   
Katharine waits until she hears the crack of them disapparating before shifting through the top drawer of their desk, pulling out her mother’s crumpled letter and small gift. The light flicks on, and she holds the letter towards it. 

Katharine, 

I know you may not ever look at me again, but I feel the need to give you some reasoning. Not to exonerate, to make you see the world as I do. Stubborn, like your father, I know you won’t listen to me if I try to tell you in person.  
The day you were born, your father was so disappointed that you were a girl that he refused to even come into the room. I sat there, alone, the nurse coming once in a blue moon. My parents weren’t allowed to visit, my sister was in hiding. I swore from that day forward, that I would protect you no matter what. And so far, I have. You are not dead. I have to keep repeating it in my head to make sure it’s still true.  
By the time Violet was born, the war was almost over. I thought my sister was dead. And here I was, very sad, holding a baby that had her eyes. It was almost unbearable.   
I admit now, that I was not a good mother. I favored you over Violet, putting more time and effort into your skills and development. But I know I loved you both.   
Violet was like the most beautiful flower growing at the top of a popular hill. The sunlight wore down on her until she couldn’t fight back against the people trodding on her. There was nothing I could do or say to change the mind of the dark lord, who decided the only way to prove our undying loyalty was to take the lives of one of our children. They tried, but your charms and the protection of Hogwarts was too hard to penatrate. I received a letter from her a few days before she died. And her signet necklace. She was past the point of no return when my response reached her. Katharine, Violet killed herself that day. 

The letter was engulfed in flames before Katharine could wipe the tears from her eyes, chest heaving unevenly. Violet killed herself. Violet was the one who drowned herself in the Black Lake. Violet was dead because the weight of her entire life being a lie was too much to bear.   
Maybe, if Katharine hadn’t told her, she’d be here today. Katharine dropped the still smoldering remains of the letter into the dustbin. The gift, still wrapped tightly, sat on the desk almost mockingly. When Katharine ripped it open, she revealed Violet's signet necklace. There were small bite marks where she bit the sides, the chain rusted around the edges. All Katharine could think was what was supposed to be a heartfelt gift, felt more like a cruel joke.   
Fred and George came home two hours later as the sun began to set over the edges of Diagon Alley, in better spirits than Katharine could ever manage. The bedroom door creaked open and shut slowly, and Katharine could hear Fred shuffle about, before he made his way over to Katharine, who was still sitting at the desk, staring down at the signet necklace. He placed a cold hand around Katharine’s neck comfortingly, causing her to recoil slightly.   
“Where’d that come from?” He whispered, leaning over to get a good look, before stepping back when he realized.   
“She killed herself. Violet killed herself that day. And I think you knew.” The desk light turned on again, shining on Fred, as he sat on the edge of the bed, dejectedly. He bit his lip, avoiding Katharine’s eye.   
“We didn’t know for sure. It took us a few minutes to get the rope and brick off, and then, we were running and-” He stopped, taking a moment to swallow dryly, “There was no time to ask questions.”   
They were both silent for an unknown amount of time, looking at each other, and looking away like clockwork. Katharine desperately wanted to be mad at him. She wanted to have somebody to blame, to yell at, but she couldn’t do it to Fred. They were so young, he did the best he could. The trauma was too much already. Slowly, Katharine untied her own signet necklace, and placed it next to Violet’s on the desk. The only reason she was alive was because she had Fred to fight for. She fought to learn and survive to keep her love in her life.   
That day in the café, four years ago, her mother was trying to tell her to stop growing if she wanted Violet to live. If she gave up Fred, stopped fighting back, and gave in to her family, Violet would still be dead, either way. Katharine wouldn't have known the charms to protect her at Hogwarts, wouldn't have known where to take her in August when she found out. She would still have been heartbroken, but she wouldn't have Fred. Katharine stood, standing in front of Fred, hands finding his cheeks, pulling him to look at her.   
“Please, don’t ever leave me. Promise me.”   
“I promise, Katharine. I will never leave you, we will go through hell and back before I even consider it.” Fred pulled her into a tight hug, letting her melt into his hold. She’d start wearing the ring.


	17. 1996 - 3

The safe house that Fred, George and Katharine moved into was located in Upper Flagley, a small village that Lupin figured they would blend right into. Somehow, he was correct. Despite the muggles that surrounded their house on both sides, they didn’t seem to find the three young adults living in a small cottage as anything weird.   
Christmastime came, bringing cold weather and twinkling lights amongst muggle homes. Katharine found it refreshing, as the manor had always been a rather dark and gloomy place during Christmas, especially the last few years she returned from Hogwarts, which brought pain and discoveries that may have been better to keep a secret.   
Fred and George returned from the joke shop one especially cold afternoon, wrangling a medium sized Christmas tree through the front door, and dropped it in the corner near the fireplace and George’s armchair.   
“It’s a bit...barren, don’t you think?” Katharine says, head tilted as she inspects the tree, which had spots around the middle of bareness. The twins groaned from the kitchen, where they were warming their cold fingers with tea.   
“I think it looks just fine.” Fred says, stoking the fire higher with his wand, sitting down on the couch, breathing out a sigh of relief. Katharine shrugged, knowing she wouldn’t win this battle, and returned to her book on the couch, leaning in to Fred, who was still stiflingly cold to the touch, even with a blanket. George clanked pans together in the kitchen, the sun already far below the trees as the cookbook floated easily by the counter, flipping between pages.  
Once George had turned the oven on and began cutting vegetables, the fire crackled loudly and the outline of Lupin’s face appeared in the ashes. Katharine launched forward at once, hands finding the cold stone before the fireplace.   
“Lupin? Lupin, what happened?” Katharine exclaims, the twins surrounding her as they wait anxiously for Lupin's reply, as he seems to still be in a deep conversation with somebody else.   
“Katharine, they’ve searched your father's house and have taken him to Azkaban. In ten minutes, you’ll receive an owl telling you the details of the trial, which you are required to attend. They didn’t arrest your mother. I have to go.” Lupin disappeared from the fire, and it returned to it’s roaring stance. Katharine sat back on her knees, taking in the rushed information as it flooded her system. Her father was in Azkaban. They arrested him.   
“This is good, that’s good, right?” George exclaims, almost immediately, watching tentatively as Fred helps Katharine stand, taking a few paces away from the fire, eyes far away and lips parted in shock.   
“Your water is boiling over, George.” Katharine says, looking at the stovetop, where bubbling water is spilling onto the open fire, watching George curse under his breath and rush over, wand flicking to calm it. The owl was pecking at the closed window ten minutes later, clutching a newspaper and a letter, stamped from the Ministry. On the newspaper, a large moving picture of Katharine’s father, looking unkempt and panicked, her uncle and aunt, and Adolph. Katharine watched the picture steadily as the four of them struggled against the Aurors as they were rushed out of the manor.   
“The hearing is after Christmas, on January 16th.” Fred says, holding up the letter enough to be able to see it in the dim cottage. Katharine gives the owl it’s money, and they fly away with a small hoot. Katharine laughs, loud and hard, causing the twins to look at her in shock.   
“That’s my father’s birthday, January 16th.” She explains, taking the offered letter from Fred, sitting back down on the lumpy couch, Socks purring at her feet. 

For the first time since she was ten years old, Katharine didn’t spend Christmas at the Manor or at Hogwarts. It was an empty sort of feeling, having the past ripped away from you so abruptly, that you forget about holidays and the pain they may bring.   
Two weeks before Christmas, Katharine remembered her mother’s parents. She’d never met them, and her father always insisted on it being for good reason. Purebloods, but alike the Potters and Weasleys, they accepted half bloods and muggle-borns as their own and didn’t discriminate as the other Sacred 28 did. She knew of their names, of course, Sabine and Lenard Fawley, but that was the end of what she knew about them.   
That’s how she ended up in Godric’s Hollow on December 18th, hair freshly cut and short, with Fred by her side, in front of her Grandparents small cottage.   
“You’re sure about this?” Fred whispers, snow catching on his maroon-knit hat, cheeks pink from the cold.   
“Positive.”   
“What if they’re senile and decrepit? They could write you out of the will because they think you’re evil. Has happened to me-”   
“Fred. Shut up.”   
“This casserole is burning my hands.”   
“Shush! Somebody’s coming!” A flash of a shadow in the window let the two of them know that the door was opening, before a young woman answered, dressed in nursing robes, with her name neatly printed to the side.   
“Hello, can I help you?” She said, a stern look on her face as she took in their appearances- as two very well dressed teenagers, adorned with shy smiles and one with striking red hair.   
“Um, my name is Katharine Silverwood. I believe my grandparents live here? Their names are Sabine and Lenard-” The nurses stern look melted immediately, before Katharine could finish her sentence. She ushered the pair of them inside, laughing and mumbling words that neither of them could really understand under the commotion. She shut the door and Fred let out an audible sigh of relief at the warmth of the cottage.   
“I should’ve known immediately who you were! Just like the pictures!” The nurse exclaims, practically taking their coats off for them, barely registering the surprised looks on their faces as they were ushered further inside, into a quaint sitting room off the front door. The first thing that Katharine noticed as the nurse went to the kitchen for tea, taking the casserole with her, was the rather large family tree painted on the far wall, larger than anything painted at the Silverwood Manor.   
Front and center, were two paintings of her supposed grandparents, their names painted underneath, and her grandfather's brother, which was blasted off, leaving just the name behind, with the words 'death eater’ below, in blood red. Beneath their paintings, were two branches for Imogene and Cheyenne, facing away from each other. Imogene, looking downcast, was facing Katharine’s father, who seemed to just have been blasted off recently, with the words 'death eater’ in blood red beneath his full name, like her grandfather's brother. Beneath Imogene, was Katharine and Violet, facing each other. The painted Katharine was smiling, looking over her shoulder, at the beginning-to-form small portrait of Fred, just an F and a W below a silhouette. Violet was stone-faced, the words ‘deceased’ below her name, in black.   
“It updates itself, you know. Almost tore your poor gran to pieces when she woke and saw poor Violet. I am sorry, deeply,” The nurse says, entering the sitting room again, with a broad tray of tea and biscuits with her, “I suppose you’re Fred, then?”   
Fred, who was still looking in disbelief at his silhouette, stands up straight and nods. The nurse smiles, and excuses herself again, this time walking up the staircase in the hallway.   
“This is incredible. Goes back generations. The one at Sirius’ house didn’t update itself like this. Wicked cool I’d say-” Fred stopped talking, as he realized Katharine wasn’t listening anymore. She was standing by the table holding pictures by the plenty. She could see the same photos that Cheyenne had shown them, of Imogene and baby Katharine, Katharine and Violet by the tree, even a recent one of Fred and Katharine, smiling widely, dressed up at the Yule Ball. Fred, ever curious, picked the one of the two of them up.   
“I thought you only sent this to my mum?” Fred asks, placing it back down gently, looking fondly at the one of Katharine hanging on the wall, dressed in her good robes, with a floppy hat on, outside of the manor. She looked about fifteen, and was scowling.   
“I did. I think our parents are hiding more than they care to tell us of.” Katharine mumbles, noting the extraordinary imbalance in photos of her, and photos of Violet. The photo of Cheyenne and Bill sits beside the one of Molly and her.   
“Imogene?” They had been so focused on the photos that they didn’t even notice that the nurse and an old woman were now standing in the doorway. The words coming from the woman’s mouth made the air run cold, even with the heat on high. The woman, steady on her feet, walked cautiously into the room, taking in the shocked expression on Katharine’s face, and then smiled.   
“Kidding. Heh. I would recognize you, Katharine, anywhere, and at any time. I haven’t lost it yet.” the woman, Sabine, gave Katharine a snarky smile, before wrapping her in a tight hug. Katharine, still shocked, let out a stifled laugh and fell into the hug.   
“I assume congratulations are in order?” Sabine exclaims once they are seated, her in a rather large chair, cushioned and wrapped in a flowery embroider, and Fred and Katharine on the couch, which is the same color as the chair. The pair look at each other, and then at Sabine, with confused looks on their faces. She smiles, almost knowingly, and points a shaking finger at the family tree, at where Fred’s portrait is beginning to show.   
“It only appears when you get engaged. You better announce to your poor mum before she has a heart attack when she visits, Fred.”   
“My mum? My mum visits you?”   
“Oh yes! Since you were just a boy! Great friend of my Cheyenne, she was.”   
“So, that’s where you got the picture of us from?” Katharine asks, clutching to her cup of tea like she depended on it.   
“The one from the Yule ball? Yes, just darling, that picture! Very sweet woman, Molly.”   
They were plunged into silence for a few moments. Katharine looked over at the family tree again, at the portrait of herself, smiling.   
“If you don’t mind me asking, where’s your husband?” Fred asks, timidly.   
“Oh, Lenard? He’s ill, caught a Christmas cold! He’s bedridden until further notice, just to make sure his fever doesn’t spike again. I’m sorry you missed him, Katharine, he would have liked to meet you.”   
“Oh, I’ll be back.” Katharine tells her, returning her soft smile as she reaches over to caress her cheek with cold fingers. Katharine works hard to not shudder, looking at the same careful eyes as her mother’s, the same ones that watched her as she left her behind at Hogwarts, not even a year ago.   
“You want me to testify at your father’s hearing.”   
“I came because I wanted to meet you.”   
“I know, dear, but you also want me to testify against your father. I received a letter a while back.” Sabine reaches to open a drawer, filled to the brim with handwritten letters, picking out the ministry letter that looked identical to Katharines.   
“I had already planned on it. I’m glad you came to visit, so I wouldn’t have to meet you for the first time as we watched your father get sentenced to life in Azkaban.” Katharine knew where she got her looks from, the high cheekbones, sleek black hair, hard hazel eyes, not from her mother, but from her grandmother. Sabine gave her a quiet smile, and handed her a new letter, stained with tears and the same tired handwriting as Imogene’s.   
“You take that, and keep it. Trust me, you want it.”   
Katharine did not look at the letter, only folded it up and placed it carefully in her pocket. They spent the rest of the evening and dinner talking about Sabine’s life. Not once was any of Katharine’s family mentioned, only Imogene and Cheyenne.   
“We have to tell my mum, now.” Fred whispers into Katharine’s shoulder later, in their bed. Katharine bites her lip, and lifts her hand up, ring twinkling in the strand of moonlight from the window. Outside their room, Socks’ meowing stops as George’s door creaks open and shut.   
“It’ll be alright. I think she’ll understand. Maybe. We’ll create an escape plan if need be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this book should just be called mommy issues: with fred weasley


	18. 1996-7 - 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone this is a soundtrack to my broken heart   
> also i promise every death has a purpose im not one of those evil people that kill people for no reason

Everyday that passed, Katharine found herself more and more inexplicably in love with Fred. She had proven that there wasn’t a single thing she wouldn’t do to protect him and George during their school years, but it seemed that living with them only doubled the amount that she cared for him.   
Once they had settled into a routine in their new cottage, Katharine began picking up on habits that he exhibited that she’d never noticed before. She knew he wasn’t a morning person, but if Fred had nothing to do that day, he’d sleep until midday and then complain of hunger and not being woken up in time. If he has an idea in the middle of the night, Katharine usually finds him minutes later bent over their desk, scribbling on parchment, one candle lit to guide his words. He left notes on the bathroom mirror and on Katharine’s bedside table when he woke up before her, usually tally marks.   
Full of endearing habits, Katharine couldn’t shake just how willing he was to risk his life for those he loved. Sometimes, Katharine thinks that's what got the twins placed in Gryffindor, and not Slytherin. Although the Order placed the three of them on missions next to never, he never failed to act unnaturally and annoyingly heroic.   
On Christmas Eve, Katharine walked arm in arm with Fred, clutching two small packaged gifts, in Godric's Hollow, bracing the cold and wet snow.   
“You’ve known them for one bloody week, don’t you think this might be a little strong?”   
“Giving gifts to my grandparents that I just met isn’t strange, Fred.”   
“Not strange, just a bit weird-”   
The pair stopped short as they turned the corner to face the Fawley residence, which through the drawn curtains, she could make out flashes of light that could only be spells being used. Without a second thought, she pushed the gifts into Fred’s arms, and rushed towards the front door, blasting it open, being met with various yells and grunts from the sitting room.   
In the sitting room, it was two against one. Katharine's grandmother fought them both, tears streaking her cheeks and glistening with every shot of light from her wand, aimed at a masked death eater, and Reed. On the floor, by Sabine’s feet, lay the nurse, unmoving. With only moments to spare, she could swear she saw another body in the dining room. The masked death eater moved onto her as she advanced into the room, narrowly missing her by inches, hitting the wall, right next to Fred’s shoulder.   
“Katharine, go outside!” Fred screamed, aiming a good shot at the death eater, as Katharine to get out of the fight to face Reed, who was gaining on Sabine, who seemed to be slowly giving up.   
“No, Fred, go call for backup, now!” Katharine yelled, cheeks red and throat scratchy already from screaming her cousin's name, shoving her elbow into Fred's stomach, forcing him out of the house, shutting the door behind him.   
Just as Katharine managed to blindly stupefy the masked death eater, who fell against Sabine’s floral chair with a thud, a flash of green came from the tip of Reed’s wand, hitting Sabine in the chest. Almost in slow motion, Katharine watched, as the grandmother she never knew, fell to the ground beside her nurse, and her husband, dead.   
“I say, I’m surprised she lasted as long as she did, old bat. Must be where you got your fucking attitude, no doubt.” Reed had his wand down. Katharine thought, if she could just kick the stupor she fell into, she could kill him. No fuss.   
“Why have you done this?” Katharine whispered, mouth parted, wand still aimed at Reed. he smiled, proud of himself and his actions.   
“Got to keep the integrity of our honorable family line in check, don’t we, Kat?.” As if on cue, the door blasted open again, and four Auror's burst forward, two tying up the stunned death eater, and two stunning Reed. Katharine watched as he fell to the ground, eyes wide open as they tied his unmoving body. Katharine sat on the couch.   
“Kit?” Fred said, slowly and quietly, standing in the doorway, almost afraid to step in. Behind him, George stood, followed by Molly, who pushed forward, lip trembling as she took in the scene.   
Numbly, Katharine stood, her legs shaky as she pushed off the couch, walking until her nose pushed into Fred’s chest. 

Out of the mass of nights Fred and Katharine lay awake, all hours of the night, tucked together in their bed, the night before the trial seemed as poignant as ever.   
A lot had changed in the few weeks since Christmas Eve and the second tragedy to land on the steps of Godric's Hollow. Per the instructions of the Fawley’s shared Will and Testament, there was no funeral. There was no need to see her mother, no shared interaction with Cheyenne. The items Katharine had been owed in the will showed up with a ministry worker a week after their death, which included a parchment, disclosing the spell to show her familial line anywhere she wanted it.   
“Mum sent us a rather bright knit blanket today.”   
“Oh really? Where is it?”   
“Downstairs. It’s got an F and a K stitched into it. Ginny says Fleur was rotten all week long as it was being made. She didn’t get a B and an F.”   
“I love Molly, but I like Fleur, I think they’re being particularly unfair.”   
Katharine, wrapped in a towel, fresh from the shower, stepped back away from the all black outfit that was floating next to the open bathroom door, before the hanger hooked onto the top of the door, and flattened. Fred stood at the bathroom mirror, a towel wrapped around his bare waist, shaving, a rag wiping the mist off the mirror lazily.   
“Mum thinks she’s too pretty for Bill. True, of course.” Katharine sighed, shaking her head at Fred’s words, adjusting her engagement ring as she pulled out a fresh pair of pajamas still in the laundry basket. Trying to ease the anxiety in the pit of her stomach, she rejoined Fred in front of the mirror, hand extending to shave his face for him.   
“You know, I can do this myself.” Fred mumbles, slouched over to fit his chin in the palm of Katharine’s hand as she traced the razor down his face carefully, expertly slow and steady. Katharine stopped to look at him with the remnants of a smile.   
Twenty minutes later, the lights were turned off, the couple tucked beneath three thick blankets, Katharine resting her head atop Fred’s chest. Despite the comfort the room brought them, twinkling stars showing from the far window beside the desk, strip of light shining from where George creaked on the steps with tea, neither of them found sleep that night.   
What would happen to them when the death eaters see them at the trial? Would they be able to find their safe house, would they be able to harm them? Would they harm George? They’d already had an excruciatingly long argument about whether or not Fred even belonged there, for his safety, which Molly had resolved herself. Fred was going.   
Both of them hated being helpless, and both felt like the situation would not end well in any circumstances. They knew that in killing the Fawley’s, Reed had effectively proved his allegiance to the Dark Lord and got rid of the two most damning witnesses the trial had. They had seen the Silverwood's better than Katharine ever had. They had not been sheltered by immaturity, virtue, and youth. They had been first to the face of evil, and in the end, hadn’t survived.   
Katharine thought of how differently the family trees were displayed between the two sides of her parents. What did the family tree at the Silverwood manor display now that Katharine had been disowned? Was her face blasted away?   
The one thing Katharine and Fred knew, was that they did not wish to die the way the Fawley’s did that night.   
Rutherford arrives the next morning with the newspaper displaying an old family portrait of the Silverwood's. Katharine’s name appears over fifty times in the front page. On the second page, a picture of Katharine and Fred in front of the willow at Hogwarts, sixteen, looking scruffy and happy.   
Katharine recalls the day of that very family portrait as if it was just yesterday. In the picture, she’s arm in arm with Violet, who is smiling politely. Seventeen, and having just witnessed the death of Cedric Diggory, Katharine was not only holding onto Violet for emotional support. She could not stand properly on her own yet, due to the abuse she suffered at the hands of her father. Her short hair is pulled back to elude the fact that it had been cut. Splotchy makeup doesn’t reveal the yellowing bruise on her cheek. On her opposite side, her mother stands stony and grim, beside her father, who is sitting on the magnificent chair in front of the family tree painted on the green wall. In the portrait, he looks at his sister’s family, smiling and standing straight, to his own, stony, cold-faced family. This night, Katharine remembers, was the beginning of the end, in which she chose to lock herself in the attic to escape the abuse hurled towards her.   
The ministry is cold. Reporters lined the hallways leading up to the trial, bright cameras stunning Katharine momentarily until she regained her composure.   
It's a long, exhausting process. The rest of the Silverwood family has been a statute sentence of six years, but due to Katharine’s fathers close proximity to the Dark Lord, he’s been called before the Wizengamot for further inspection of his actions during the first Wizarding World War, and since the rise of the Dark Lord for the second time. Several people, including Cheyenne, line the witness stands, all grim. The Wizengamot are flat-faced, occasionally leaning over to whisper and cast their eyes towards the witnesses. Five minutes before the proceedings begin, Imogene and Alverna enter the room. They are set to be the last two witnesses, after Katharine.   
Several people speak in positive tones for her father, who is magically bound to the chair in the center of the room, including Narcissa Malfoy, who recounts a close friendship with Katharine’s parents. Her kind words, however, fall on deaf words when Cheyenne steps up.   
“Ms. Fawley, can you recall when you found out that your brother in law was a death eater?” A wizard on the jury says, prompting Cheyenne to curtly nod and pull a piece of parchment from her pocket.   
“That’s the family line! That’s what your grandparents left you in the will! How come she’s got one too?” Fred whispers, falling short when Katharine gives him a hand, focusing on Cheyenne, who had passed the parchment to a juror. Low whispers and gasps sounded around the room as more and more realized what it was.   
Dumbledore, who had been seated behind Katharine and Fred, leans forward, “Family lines like the parchment your aunt has presented were very commonly used by wizard families during the first war. I assume it says your father is a death eater, does it not?”   
Katharine nods slowly as the Minister calls the court back into order.   
“Thank you Ms. Fawley, that is all.”   
A few coworkers of Katharine’s father took the stand. It took close to two hours before the Wizengamot set their eyes on Katharine, who had been making eye contact with the floor for close to thirty minutes by then.   
“Ms. Silverwood, I understand you were the first in the house on December twenty fourth, the night your maternal grandparents were murdered. Would you recount the incident for the court, please?” Katharine’s ears were already ringing, her peripheral vision picking up Cheyenne using a tissue to wipe under her eyes.   
“I don’t understand why that is essential to the case?” Murmurs broke out amongst the Wizengamot. Katharine saw Fred smile, and shake his head. Anxiously, she twisted her ring, sitting uncomfortably.   
“Please, Ms. Silverwood.” The Minister says in a curt voice, a suspicious eye on her. Katharine takes a deep breath.   
“I arrived after seven, and noticed the fight before I entered. We- the masked death eater was stunned after a minute battle, Reed had succeeded Sabine before I could help.”   
“Mr. Fawley and the nurse were dead before you arrived?”   
“Yes.”   
“Very well. We understand that you have been disowned, what is the reason for this?” Katharine paused before responding, looking towards Fred, and then her mother, who sat helpless and gaping. In the chair, her father’s stance mimicked how he sat in the family portrait. She couldn’t help but wonder if he knew that his life was about to fall apart.   
“My father disapproved of some of my choices during school.”   
“Surely this wouldn’t be a cause of dishonor?”   
“He did not like that I chose not to become a death eater.”   
The room erupted in sound. Standing still in front of the witness stand, Katharine watched as the Wizengamot quickly sentenced her father to twenty years in Azkaban, amidst his screaming and fighting.   
Imogene fought her way forward, eyes burning with a familiar rage, hands grasping at the collar of Katharine’s dress shirt, her words falling on deaf ears as she was pulled away quickly.   
“You’ll pay for this, girl!” Her father screamed, craning over his neck as they took him away, practically dragging him along the tiled floor. Katharine lunged at him, now free from the stand and halfway out of the room, only stopped by Fred’s hands on her arms.   
“I already have!” The door shut loudly on her father’s strangled screams, leaving them with the flicker of cameras and Imogene's screeching down the hallway. Red in the face, Katharine looked at Fred, and in a glimpse of freedom, she smiled.


End file.
